


Waiting Sea (wash your tides all over me)

by carmillahey



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Carmilla Big Bang 2017, F/F, Fluff, beach au, past emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 04:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 52,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12101238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmillahey/pseuds/carmillahey
Summary: Laura yearns for an adventure that she can’t quite seem to find. That is, until the adventure decides to take charge and find her, in the form of a philosophical drifter named Carmilla and the weathered van she calls home.aka: beach aubeta'd by ZarkMuckerberg





	1. Turf Wars

**Author's Note:**

> Here comes a long, babbling mess:
> 
> This week has been a bit surreal. I turned 19 two days ago. Yesterday was my one year on testosterone. And today is the day I finally release my first, officially completed, multi-chapter fic.
> 
> It’s a pretty big deal for me but I’ll try not to bore you with too many details.
> 
> I never imagined this was possible for me. In March, I met Elise at ClexaCon. We talked about my fear of creativity, about how badly I wanted to write and how afraid I was to put myself out there. Among other things, she encouraged me to go for it, to not let my fear stop me.
> 
> Soon after, the carmilla big bang was announced but I was still so unsure. Unsure if I could do it, if I could push through my own mental illness and insecurity to write something. My goal was the minimum of 15,000 words but I ended up with 50k within two months of writing. It seemed like a miracle and to this day, I don’t fully understand how I managed that.
> 
> Regardless, I am so proud. I proved to myself that I was capable. And nothing can stop me now.
> 
> I want to thank Kyle (my beta) for taking on this beast and Riley, who made beautiful art for this fic, brought my vision to life, and talked to me about this au. His support through the writing process motivated me. 
> 
> Thank you to my therapist, who pushed me and help me fend off my demons. And a big thank you to the moderators of this event, Lanie and Aether! Y’all gave me an opportunity to be a part of something I really needed!
> 
> And last but not least, thank you to my past self for not giving up on this story. It sat for almost two years in my drafts, just waiting to be written. 
> 
> I hope I did it justice.

Laura was usually comforted by the warmth emitting from the small bonfire in front of her but tonight, it was stifling.

She was a little buzzed, frankly not enough, off of beer Kirsch had insisted their group of friends drink because he was sure it would be totally mind blowing. His words, not hers.

He had stolen it from his fraternity brothers, who had stolen it from the science club- hellbent on renaming themselves the Alchemy Club- who had created a unique blend of alcohol, spices, and “ancient purification” to breed some new type of concoction, when used in the right setting and quantity, was capable of leading the drinkers to experience inebriation like never before. Again, not her words, though, they were surprisingly marketable.

It was an… experience. For lack of a better, more sarcastic term. She suspected the poor excuse of a party drink consisted of rubbing alcohol, mountain dew, and some sort of fizzy lemon juice but she was no ingredient analysis expert. That’s just what it tasted like, plus the added perks of stale aftertastes and bitterness. It sounded like a load of crap to her and after chugging a couple bottles, felt like it too.

Sometimes, cheap alcohol could make for a good time.

She wasn’t having a good time.

Saturday nights had proven to be a bit bland, though they were intended to be anything but. Every weekend since high school, Laura and her friends had met under the old pier for a casual hang out. It was tradition to light a fire in the center of their log circle, drink beer, eat food, and maybe talk some shit. Except, there wasn’t much shit to talk because Styria wasn’t that type of place.

It was a quiet town, nestled between the Atlantic ocean and nothingness. Plains and hills stretched for almost as far as the eye could see, backdropped by a mountain range covered in greens or sprinkled with white, depending on the time of year. About 50 miles to the west (inland), there was a major city that everyone talked about in passing but didn’t pay much attention to.

Most people who lived there did so voluntarily, choosing to reside on the outskirts away from the hustle and bustle of the mainstream world. There was a time when the town was brimming with tourist activity but those days were gone. People were no longer excited to visit run down boardwalks and quaint family owned shops that hadn’t been renovated in years. Laura didn’t mind anyhow, tourist could be a little intrusive, making a spectacle out of her home. However, the one disadvantage that came with a lack of irritating people was a lack of gossip, something Laura was currently dying to hear.

A slow town equated to slow people, so nothing of interest happened. The biggest news to grace Styria in the last decade was her high school’s graduating class and their epic senior prank. It involved a large collection of whoopee cushions and 50 cans of shaving cream that cost a pretty penny from their own low income pockets. That stunt had awarded them a column in the local paper, several pats on the back from underclassmen, and scolds from those who disapproved of their “young people shenanigans”.

Either way, that was that; 2 years and the rest was flatline status.

Sure, Laura was drunk and feeling a little bored but sue a girl for wanting to hear a scandalous piece of drama that didn’t involve her immediate circle. She wanted the shocking secrets that had travelled through various consuming ears and blabbering mouths to end up at her feet, or early access news that hadn’t even blipped the radar of amateur gossip columnists yet. She couldn’t help it. She had curious tendencies by nature and almost no self-discipline; these traits only intensified under the influence.

Laura was pulled out of her own stream of consciousness as the flames in front of her flared up. She watched as they danced higher into the air, swishing like a rippling tide in the summer breeze. She wondered what it would be like to live in a town that served to sate her need for thrill.

“As fun as this conversation is,” Danny must have interrupted something heated yet unimportant. Laura had checked out of the conversation a while ago but last she remembered, the long standing argument between Lafontaine and Kirsch, about which dessert at the Sandy Toe’s diner was the best, had been revisited for the 3rd time in a row. “I’ve got some information that might peak your interest.”

“Oh finally,” Laura punctuated with a loud squeal and a jerked movement, similar to a triumphant fist being thrown skyward but less coordinated, before taking a sip of her disgusting drink and leaning forward on her log. “Spill it!”

Lafontaine hunched forward on their knees, disrupting their glare curated for Kirsch to look at Danny. Perry, sitting next to Laf, had a hand on their back and was rubbing soothing strokes. Lafontaine could go into overload mode during discussion if they weren’t being careful and Perry was the antidote. She had been following the conversation while still tending to their partner, though it wouldn’t appear like that to anyone else looking in from the outside. To the scientists that argued multitasking wasn’t possible, Laura would love for them to see her redheaded friend doing a minimum 3 tasks at once without fault.

Kirsch perked up in his seat, eager to listen, next to Will, who had not said a word since the beer had been distributed. Sometimes, other members of Kirsch’s frat joined the festivities or their other, more distant friends like Elsie and Mel from high school, but now it was just their core group. Which was perfect, if Danny had something so important to share that she specifically called all attention.

“Don’t look now but,” she paused for dramatic effect, bending over, eyes moving from one person to the next and holding everyone in suspense, “there is a van parked a few hundred feet to the north of the entrance.”

Several groans of disappointment could be heard, but were overshadowed by Laura’s gasp and Kirsch’s confused noises.

“How is that even possible?” Kirsch said through the murmurings of the group. “I mean, shouldn’t the police be on their ass by now?”

“Come on, Kirsch, you know the patrol officers hardly do anything. I’m not surprised they’re getting away with it,” Danny responded with her signature air of authority and confidence, typical of a college-level soccer team captain.

“I’ve calculated the statistics and she’s right,” Laf chimed in, “they’re more likely to become involved in serious crimes or felonious attempts, which Styria has neither of.”

“But still, cars on the beach after hours is against the law, which is exactly the type of offense they should be dealing with!” Danny’s drunk anger mixed with sober spite for corruption was never a good combination.

“Woah, woah, no need to lash out here,” Laura joined in, the excitement in her chest bubbling close to the surface. “I’m sure they’ll take care of it eventually. Besides, they’re not harming anyone.” She reached across to grab Danny’s shoulder and pull her back. She could be quite intense and intimidating without even realizing it.

“Sorry,” Danny said specifically at Laura, though she was supposed to be addressing the whole group. “I should probably cut down on the… what is this stuff again?” she asked, lifting her individually packaged beer bottle to eye level, examining the contents inside.

“Maenad’s Mojo,” Kirsch said, taking another huge gulp.

“Interesting… doesn’t really live up to the name,” Laf muttered under their breath to no one in particular, sipping in time with Kirsch.

Laura tried her hardest to keep herself from squirming. She was desperate to know more, but she assumed Danny would have told them if she knew other details. Her restraint was fading fast but her chance to inquire further evaded her as the group continued on to the next topic.

-

She was wrong, this is the best alcohol she’s ever had in her possession. The best thing to have ever fell upon her taste buds. It’s almost like angels, napping on her tongue, coaxing her into a sweet numbness. She couldn’t believe she thought it was disgusting. It was simply appalling of her. She would apologize to the liquid, but it wouldn’t hear her. Unless it was so magical that it had ears hidden somewhere in the glass. She’d try later.

As the night progressed, everyone had become more drunk, happier, and significantly sloppier minus Perry, who stopped drinking after an incident last semester. The fire was raging, smoke billowing from its peaks at an alarming rate. Or maybe that’s what Laura was seeing. She had stopped being able to distinguish the difference between reality and imagined fantasy two bottles ago.

In their drunken haze, the group agreed that truth or dare would be the most entertaining activity and it was actually turning out to be quite a success. Among many dares, the best ones left Danny without both socks and a new pair of shoes (one shoe not being her own) and Kirsch with a fake mustache and beard drawn with sharpie on his face. The “truth” option of the game hadn’t been asked in several turns, instead being replaced by all dares that consisted of whatever their inebriated minds thought were amusing. Laf was in the middle completing a dare, dancing to a song they were making up in their head while everyone watched in awe.

When Lafontaine finished their number, there was a thundering of applause. They plopped down next to Perry, tilting as their cognitive functions weren’t functioning. She immediately began to tame their hair, which had been messed up through the course of the night.

“Laura!” Laf was the most drunk, and therefore, the loudest and most far gone.

“I dare you to go to the van and knock on their door.” They stumbled through the sentence, cutting off consonance and almost forgetting a few words, but it was intelligible enough for Laura to understand. A chorus of agreement came from the circle, somewhat distracting Laura enough to stall her from an impulse action.

“I don’t know if that is such a good idea, Laura,” Danny said, a few drinks behind the rest of the group and sober enough to have some common sense intact, unlike the rest of them.

“I agree,” Perry spoke up from the sidelines, still tending to Lafontaine. “It’s way past curfew, you’re far too drunk to converse with anyone who isn’t sober and frankly, it’s rude to disturb others when they least expect it.”

“I mean, what if there is some crazy psycho that tries to kill you?” Danny interrupted, stuck on the same thought from earlier, her mind no doubt spiraling with one drastic outcome after another.

“I think you both are being a little dramatic,” Laura slurred, attempting to calm both of their nerves.

“A little dramatic!” Perry exclaimed. “You all have been recklessly drinking with complete disregard of the law or any consequences that are sure to come from this night! I think dramatics are perfectly called for.” The silence that preceded her outburst was deafening compared to the rowdy noise that had engulfed their space.

Kirsch was the first one to speak after several moments of awkward silence.

“I think you should do it.”

And then there was a roar of cheers, spurring her on. Laura was not one to back down from a challenge, from people telling her that she wasn’t important enough to make a difference or that she wasn’t brave enough. _I’m going to prove them all wrong_ , she thought as she jumped out of her seat, wobbling through her lack of balance, heading toward the van.

She trekked across the beach, sand flying behind her every step she took. The uneven divots in the ground made it hard for her to remain upright and she was pretty sure sand had entered her shorts but it didn’t stop her from marching right on over and confronting the minor felon.

She didn’t waste time with second thoughts as she raised her fist, knocking in quick secession. She stopped counting when she became fascinated with the metallic clanking noise of her knuckles with each knock. After receiving no evidence of life inside the vehicle, she looked back at the group, who were all standing to catch a view of the scene.

“Hello!” Laura shouted, knocking at least five more times for good measure. Either no one was home or the person was ignoring her, which was rude, in Laura’s very not drunk opinion. She lingered for a minute before accepting ultimate defeat.

“What happened? You chicken out, Hollis?” Lafontaine taunted as Laura drew closer to the circle, feet dragging in shame.

“Psh, no! They just weren’t home!” Laura was quick to defend, a pink blush dusting her face from embarrassment or the alcohol, or both.

“Likely story. You gotta do something in place of the fallen dare or else you forfeit!”

“Forfeit what!”

“The prize.” Lafontaine wore a smirk, equal parts intriguing and frightening.

“We didn’t agree on any prizes.” Laura looked to the others for support but didn’t find any in their glazed over eyes or distracted musings.

“I just now thought of it. Winner gets my latest batch of experimental weed brownies.” Laf said, puffing out their chest. Laura considered that for a moment.

“I can stick both feet behind my head?” She shrugged. Laf’s eyes widened, lighting up with possibility.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

-

Sherman Hollis was the master of intuition and unearthing secrets poorly held by his only daughter.

So when Laura sat down that morning in her seat at the kitchen bar stool across from her father, who was making breakfast for the two of them, she was surprised when he made no mention of anything but their usual morning conversation.

To her luck and the Alchemy club’s surprising genius, her hangover was less severe than expected and left no external signs of last night’s drunken adventures. It was a miracle she wasn’t lying prone, incapacitated face first on her bed right now.

“Morning kiddo!” Mr. Hollis said between a haphazard pancake flip. It had been years since he first started learning to cook but still had trouble keeping the batter from slipping off his spatula and onto the floor. Laura had lost count of the number of times she was forced to eat bran cereal after his failures, which had no back-up meals.

“How was the hangout last night?”

“Oh you know, the usual,” Laura swiveled back and forth in her chair, forcefully maintaining a straight face, “Lafontaine and Kirsch ended up wrecking the game of dungeons and dragons after one too many defeats.”

Mr. Hollis turned from his spot at the stove to face Laura, his bushy brows furrowing with the squint of his eyes. “Those two never learn, do they?” He chuckled, shifting to focus intently on the pan, as to not burn the food.

“Nope!” Laura laughed with him, a genuine smile gracing her face for the first time that morning.

Okay, so maybe her dad could tell when she was lying but Laura was an adult now. They both knew he couldn’t stop her from participating in their adult activities.

It had taken him a long time to deal with her growing up and all the life changes that came with it. Throughout her senior year of high school, they fought almost every day and it caused a bit of unrest in the Hollis household.

During that time, Laura was hesitant to admit she resented him. She could understand where he was coming from but lacked the resources to fix his concerns. It’s not like she could revert back to being a child. Mr. Hollis was extremely frustrated with his daughter for lack of communication and his own internal struggle with seeing her grow into a strong, independent woman who might not need or want her father around. Regardless, there was still an immense amount of love between the two.

Their disagreement wasn’t bound to last long and all fell apart during a conversation toward the beginning of her first semester at community college. They both bared their concerns in a lengthy conversation full of honesty, that ended with tears and a mending of hearts.

Communication worked best for them and they both tried their best to incorporate that into daily conversations, rather than special occasions. Unless, it was about her late-teen shenanigans. That was off limits.

“Give me a rating on these ‘cakes,” He said in his official announcer voice, carrying a large plate stacked high with the finished pancakes, a ring of burnt batter encompassing the edges.

“7 out of 10, the outsides could use some work.”

“Laura Eileen Hollis, didn’t I teach you not to judge people based on their outer appearance! Have I failed as a father? Oh gosh, I’m going to have to send you to a reformatory for 20 year olds who have forgotten how to be polite into their adulthood and you’ll fight me the whole way as I drag you to the car and-”

“Dad!” Laura shoved him, giggling at his well-thought-out dad joke, “Stop being so dramatic! They’re just pancakes.’’

“Pancakes are people, too!” He finished with a lopsided frown, sliding into the seat next to Laura’s.

“Not in this universe. Besides, my psychology 101 class taught me about projection of our own feelings onto others. It seems as though you’re taking your inadequacies out on me.”

“If only you weren’t so smart, maybe I could get away with more goofiness.” He pinched Laura’s cheek, earning another light shove.

“Your goofiness passes just fine with me.” Laura smiled at him, throwing an arm around his broad shoulder. She hugged him quickly before digging into her breakfast.

The two talked between bites of their pancakes and sips of delicious hot cocoa, syrup dripping off their plates and laughing at their mustaches (one liquid, one real) until their food was gone and comfortable silence had enveloped them. The sun had moved from shining an angular ray at the window to high above their house in white hot streaks. Summer brought along quite a bit of heat for their area. It wasn’t the worst weather she had experienced, but it was enough to push for a change of wardrobe and extra sunscreen courtesy of Mr. Hollis.

“Any plans for the day?”

“I think I might go exploring.”

“There isn’t a place in this town that you haven’t been to.” He sipped his drink, slurping loudly, pleased with the twitch of Laura’s furrowed brow and the faux irritated frown it caused.

“I could have missed something hidden or something new.” Laura crossed her arms, taking a defensive stance against him.

“That’s true, kiddo. You know I’m just being difficult with you.” He swiveled toward her, his knees squished and knocking into her side.

“I know, because who else would, if not you?” She recited, certain memories from her childhood floating in the front of her mind, reminding her of the instances her father would tell her that exact phrase over and over again. Laura was an only child and to fulfill the role of healthy teasing, Mr. Hollis was more than willing to occupy.

“Please be careful, okay? I know this town is relatively calm but that doesn’t mean something or someone can’t show up and throw the balance out of whack.”

Laura had heard this spiel before; be careful, remember first aid, don’t talk to strangers, etc. While he continued to lecture, she hopped down and walked around the counter, rinsing off her dishes in the sink (if you count splashing water on the entire pile a thorough cleaning).

As she walked down the hall, her dad and his exponential list of preparations followed her. She sifted through her snapbacks and picked the floral patterned one. Flowers were her self-induced good luck charm. Laura needed to find proof that there was still an abundance of discoveries ahead of her. She grabbed her backpack hanging on the hooks near the door and swiped her keys off of the table.

“I’ve got my backpack, I should be fine.”

“But Laura don’t forget about the-”

“Bye!” She said, planting a kiss on his cheek, rushing out the door.


	2. Curious Case of Adultnapping

Her father wasn’t kidding when he’d said that there wasn’t a place Laura didn’t know in their little town.

She had visited each shop more than once, supporting their business in the form of purchasing baked goods or antiques to put in her closet collection. She knew all of the locals by name, excluding visitors and newbies. She had scouted out the entire area and mapped out each path to travel in her own head. She didn’t write it down because she didn’t want to share. That information was her own mental directory of knowledge, intended to stay as such.

The most significant place she had discovered and arguably the best spot on the whole beachfront was an alcove located under a specific cliff at the town’s edge. Laura was almost sure she was the only one aware of it’s existence because it’s difficult access point somewhere just west of the coast.

She had stumbled upon it in middle school during her self-led cliff scaling expedition. Her itinerary consisted of a jump rope, keyrings she had fished out of her dad’s junk basket, and a shovel she had borrowed (not stolen!) from Mrs. Johnson’s garden shed. Her friends came forward about a week before the planned date, citing different reasons as why each of them couldn’t attend, but Laura wasn’t about to cancel her mission because of a disbanded team.

One bright afternoon, she tried to climb the cliffside herself. When she couldn’t find a path up, she switched tactics, starting from the top and working down. She landed just several paces outside the alcove and the rest was history. When they asked her about what she discovered, something in her made her spill a modest excuse involving a rolled ankle and admitting defeat.

At first, she felt guilty not telling her friends but soon after it’s discovery, she realized the area was secluded enough for her to relax and that continued on as she grew. All the socialization made it hard for her to think and process things, so it was one of the sole surviving secrets inside her.

Today’s destination of choice was the cliffside above the secret alcove. The cliff appeared to be half of a mountain-like structure, cut out over periods of erosion. It had a perfect, unobstructed view of the ocean’s horizon and even the sunrise, if she was awake early enough to catch it. A few boats could be seen, sailing through the tranquil waters, looking for an appropriate place to dock. Laura loved to name them and keep track of their routes but her favorite thing was basking in the sunlight, blocking all the stressors out of her life.

Laura sat cross-legged on the rotted wooden bench, staring into the blue horizon. The wood was a faded tan color, paint peeled off due to years use by the public. There was minimal graffiti, done by people she knew (and some by herself, too).

She rubbed her fingers over the rough surface of the carved letters of her initials and the date 2007. In her mind, she was there again; in a young summer full of possibility, ice cream melting into her palms, friends gathered in her backyard picking out stars, dew on weeds and a stray dog she once helped find a home.

The summer breeze had picked up, bringing clouds in its wake. The sun shone in parted slivers through the movement of the white masses overhead. Laura wished the sky had stayed clear, but she supposed it was fitting for her mood.

There was a thought that refused to leave her mind, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. She had always been quite proficient at remaining positive even in the worst of times, keeping her emotions in check or pushing them down for the benefit of other people. However, that didn’t mean that her struggles disappeared into thin, ocean air. She was plagued with the repercussions of her repressed feelings and their partner in crime, reoccurring thoughts of distress.

Laura loved her life, she really did. She had the most wonderful dad and friends that saw her as the authentic, headstrong, and fearless human lesbian that she was. Her town, albeit quiet and filled with older crowds, was kind. They hadn’t always been but Laura had forgiven those who tormented her.

No, the confusion came from within herself. Since she was a child, she had an intense thirst for adventure. It was much harder to admit and recognize that these feelings hadn’t left, when she entered adulthood.

Laura wanted to experience the world in it’s beautifully messy and unpredictable nature. There was something so fulfilling about learning through experience rather than textbooks or research.  
She wanted to explore all that the world had to offer through her own perspective.

She had spent countless hours contemplating her options. Theoretically, she could figure something out. Save some money, take out a loan, withdraw from school and just go for it. She could figure out what to do as the challenges arrived. She convinced herself it was easy. Then why was it so difficult to execute? Her father had raised her to be ambitious and chase her dreams but why couldn’t she follow through?

The universe had a habit of distracting Laura from her own thoughts and just in that moment, something began reflecting light into her eyes like a laser beam from one of those spy flicks her dad rented. It was harsh, coming from the glare of a mirror somewhere in the area. She was able to hone in on the source just as the clouds shifted again.

The van. It’s sideview mirror angled in the perfect position to shine in her face.

Laura shot up off the bench (which gave a groan of approval), determined to investigate. The incident last night did nothing to deter her from searching for the truth. She was going to meet the person (or people) residing in that vehicle, whether they wanted to or not.

She decided to take the shortcut down to the beach, mimicking the same motions her younger self had taken down. In her haste, she was a little clumsy and lost her footing on the slope but she couldn’t slow her stride. The sign was right there, calling out to her and she wasn’t going to ignore it.

After several minutes of sliding and climbing, she landed, the sand supporting her. The waves crashed upon the shore in violent furls, the tide high and foreboding. The breeze had gained more force, evolving into sharp gusts of wind. Laura had to hold onto her hat so it wouldn’t take flight.

There was a clear path from her location to the van’s. The journey over there was considerably less complicated because she wasn’t a drunken mess. As she approached her target, she slowed to a hybrid of sneaking and creeping. Upon her first visit, she hadn’t paid much attention to the appearance of the van but her head was clear and she needed to save as much visual information as she could to stockpile for future reference or well-deserved blackmail.

The van itself was heavily weathered, fitting right in with the aesthetic of the town. It was a volkswagen model, painted two colors: a faded black on the top and a rusted red on the bottom divided by a silver, rusting line. There were several items strapped in the rack resting on the roof of the car, frayed cables zigzagging in the wind. There weren’t any notable designs decorating the exterior except for the medium size black panther, painted under the window of the back door. Deep red curtains covered all the windows, preventing invasive people like Laura from snooping.

She continued to move closer, no real plan of action in mind. If she trailed around the back and stuck to the sides, she could catch a glimpse through the windshield.

“Good thinking, Hollis!” she congratulated her commendable strategizing skills in a whisper-yell.

Just as she had finished speaking, the door next to her flew open with such a force that it slammed right into her back.

“Ow!” She caught herself and slapped a hand over her mouth. She acted like a crouched statue, quiet and unassuming near the tires.

“Whoever is there, I’ll give you three seconds to show yourself before I come out and find you myself,” a seething voice boomed out from inside the van, somehow audible over the noise of the wind.

She had faith she wouldn’t be caught. The sun had been blocked out by the dark cloud swirling above, heavy with rain. It had to be impossible for anyone to see so far out, not during these conditions.

Suddenly, she felt a hand fist the top of her bag, pulling her around and into the van. The doors clanked shut, leaving her and the stranger in complete darkness.

-

_Don’t panic!_

“I’m not,” Laura growled at herself. The last thing she needed was reprimanding inner monologues.

Except, her consciousness was right. She felt panicked. Her limbs wouldn’t move. She was trapped in metaphorical mind ice, begging to be thawed so she could do something other than hesitate like a vacant, adrenaline-seeking idiot.

Up until now, Laura had classified Styria exempt from the Hollis list of “All Bad Places that Would Promote Bad Situations”.

Nowhere was off limits from being cataloged, at this point. She should have listened more to her dad’s concerns.

She snapped out of it, channeling her fear into a fight response. The person had not yet tried to restrain her but she began to struggle, as if anticipating tendrils of shadows to swallow her whole. She forgot about the emergency gear hanging on her back, flailing in a burst of stamina. She fell into a corner, distancing herself from the assumed silhouette of her enemy.

She sacrificed her hand to the shadows, hoping it would save her. She felt in the direction of the door, searching for the handle. Nothing. She was met with the cold interior, rough and exposed to show the infrastructure of the vehicle.

So, both options had fallen through. It was time for Laura to resort to the one thing she knew best. She let out a bloodcurdling shriek of terror which elicited a groan from the other person.

“No one is going to hear all that screaming over the storm,” they rasped out, blending into the black stillness like one of the midnight demons she battled in her nightmares. A malevolent figure, waiting to convert her into the monster she feared most, controlling her mind and turning her skin transparent.

“Don’t try anything stupid! I’ve got bear spray and eight years of krav maga training!” Laura warned, assuming a modified attack stance from her spot curled up close to the wall.

She heard a laugh, mixed with a few rustling sounds. She froze, the ice forming again. It spread to her outer organs, preparing her for the brute force of an actual attack. Just as soon as the noise had begun, it stopped. The space flickered, illuminating with the intense glow of a flashlight pointed at the roof. A few droplets of rain could be heard hitting the windows, broadcasting the storm’s arrival.

Laura released all her tension at once, panting from the rush. She stared with unabandoned fervor at the stranger and the woman stared back, matching her in ferocity.

She seemed more calm, perhaps a little irritated or amused as she scanned her with piercing brown eyes that flitted the perimeter of her face. Her hair was the same shade as her eyes, cascading in waves past her shoulders. Her smirk was far too smug, accentuating her sharp cheekbones and jawline. In any other situation, Laura would have been struck by her attractiveness.

“Relax, cutie. I’m not going to do anything,” she replied, smirk deepening. “Without your consent.” Laura gave her an ultimate look of disgusted and displeased proportions.

“What the fuck! You practically kidnap- _adultnap_ \- me against my will and now you’re hitting on me?” Laura could not believe the nerve it must take to flirt with someone two seconds after you scared them half to death.

“I didn’t _adultnap_ you,” she punctuated with sarcastic air quotes, “You were on my property.” The woman shrugged, breaking eye contact in favor of inspecting her hands.

“Your property!” Laura yelled. “I wouldn’t call parking _illegally_ on the beach-- which by the way, is state owned-- your property!”

“If you’re going to argue with me, you should get your facts right,” Laura watched, mouth agape, as she picked at her nails, “This town may regulate the beach, but it’s technically public property. Arnold vs. Mundy ruling. Google it, sweetheart.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Laura took several deep breaths. Her face was heating up, a burning sensation pricking at her nerves.

“You’re just avoiding the subject of my being-held-against-my-will.”

“You’re free to go at anytime,” she offered in a pleasant tone, an eerie smile replacing her disinterested expression.

“Oh, please,” Laura scoffed.

“Go ahead,” she said, hand stretched out in a flourish motion toward the door.

Laura knew it was the smart, logical, normal person thing to get the hell out and run to her dad. He would call the authorities, have the van dweller arrested, and be super proud that she was able to escape this mess alone and unharmed. But there was a voice, firm but weak, telling her to dive deeper. It was a gut feeling, pushing her across the line of unknown, no matter how dangerous it could be. She knew the woman was tricking her into some sort of elaborate trap. And she was dangling over it, a single thread suspending her above the pit of no return.

If she ever made it out alive, her dad was going to kill her.

Several moments of pure silence and another stare down occurred before the woman nodded her head, accepting Laura’s choice.

“Make yourself at home then,” she said, grabbing plastic candles from the shelf next to her head. She lit them individually with the flick of a switch located on the bottom of each unit. Laura shifted in awkward combinations to sit in her preferred cross-legged position, confusion written across her face.

She took a quick glance at her surroundings but was distracted by the fluid movement of the stranger across from her. She held each candle between delicate fingers, like they would break or catch fire if she wasn't careful. She maintained an air of poise, even in doing a task so simple and unimportant. Laura watched, mesmerized with her natural nonchalance.

“So, you’re the one who disturbed me last night.” It wasn’t posed as a question, but as a statement.

“What? I have- why would I even-” Laura struggled to communicate what she meant and was laughed at in response.

“It’s not funny!” she huffed.

“Oh, but it is,” the brunette said, biting her lip and being all stupidly seductive while tending to her pretentious lights. Laura squirmed. It was taking her an awfully long and suspicious time to light the room.

“I could tell from the moment you decided to stay that it was you.” Laura stared, silent. At least her mouth was shut this time.

“You just can’t help yourself. A small town girl like you must be _dying_ to know what my life is like.”

The woman finished with the final candle, shuffling on her knees and lowering down to sit with Laura. Their legs were almost touching, separated by just a few inches of agonizing space. Laura fiddled with her hands, sliding until her backpack was pressed against the wall, snagging paper and other rough objects stuck there.

“Since I’m feeling… generous… ask whatever your racing heart so desires.” Her grin was wide, sharp canines poking out from red lips.

“Whatever I want?” Laura’s brows flew up her forehead, nearly detaching from her scalp and flopping into the middle of her legs.

“Sure.”

“Okay,” Laura said, still cautious. “For starters, who are you?”

“Me? I've had so many names. Old names that only the wind and the trees can pronounce. I am the mountain, the forest, and the earth.” Laura rolled her eyes.

“Nice try, cinephile, that’s a quote from Pan’s Labyrinth.”

The woman just shrugged. It seemed to be her default movement, stiff and guarded. She was like a robot on medium alert, the smirk still stuck on her alabaster skin like it was painted in permanent ink.

“Let me try again,” Laura sighed, hands landing on her knees. “What’s your name?”

“I don’t have one.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Not if I’m telling you so.”

“Where are you from?”

“Not here.”

“Couldn’t have guessed that.” Laura’s own sarcasm left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. “Where exactly?”

Awkward silence enveloped the two, acting as the weak glue holding them together.

“Somewhere far away.”

“And that is located?”

“Far away.”

Another awkward silence, twice as long.

“So, you like movies,” Laura prompted, realizing the fight for information wouldn’t be without complications and code cracking. Optimistic, she thought kindness and specific interests could be a better approach.

“Maybe.” She tilted her head, searching for her own answer in Laura’s expression.

“What’s your favorite?” Laura asked.

There was no response again, to her dismay and utter frustration, except for the rain that pounded upon the van’s exterior in unwavering sheets. She made a point to stare holes into her pale, smooth forehead.

“It’s just a movie. Not like I can use the information against you.” There was a sigh, and she waited with baited breath.

“I don’t have a favorite because I haven’t watched many. I prefer to spend my time reading than rotting my brain with exposure to childish inventions.” Laura just shook her head.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” No eye contact, picking of the nails. Laura could almost predict her next defense mechanism.

“Judging me, avoiding my questions you specifically said you would answer, being an asshole.”

“Maybe I changed my mind.” The smirk had fallen, proving it wasn’t a twisted piece of artwork. It had now been replaced by a line cut horizontally in stoicism, slashed through her perfect cheeks.

“You’re an insufferable liar,” Laura accused through gritted teeth.

“You sound insecure, frustrated,” Carmilla deadpanned. “It’s almost like you care. Why?”

“You’re defensive.” Laura could feel the sweat gathering on her palms, rage boiling in her veins, one degree from breaking loose. “And a waste of my time.” It was the woman’s turn to roll her eyes.

That seemed to shut her up as Laura yanked the door open, water hitting them both in droplets. Laura made another decision in that moment: chewing her out any further wasn’t worth the time or emotional turmoil. Her own silence spoke volumes.

The stranger hadn’t looked at her since the first question. She was closed off, arms crossed and body language uninviting.

With one final glare, Laura hopped out, leaving the door ajar as she trudged through the slopping mud to go home.


	3. Karma Carmeleon

Laura had a good relationship with karma.

There was nice and mean, good and evil, benevolent and malicious; she herself fell on the better side of the characteristic spectrum.

Her notable deeds included donating spare change to people in need and cleaning up litter that had flown out of trash bins. She extended truthful advice to her friends for their troubling situations and supported them through their toughest times. Even people she didn’t know well, she treated with utmost kindness. She was raised to hold off on passing judgements upon people until further examination and worked hard to maintain the mindset.

The stranger in the van had been a mistake, an outlier to all the charitable work she had done.

At first, Laura was shamelessly at peace with the situation. She was allowed to be harsh and righteous in that moment. But that train of thought didn’t last long once unwelcomed guilt washed over her like a cold shower.

Laura was good at heart and the woman seemed downright terrible. She had witnessed enough of her disposition to determine who she was on the inside. Why couldn’t the universe just give her a free pass, an okay to have been scathing just this once without reprimand or consequences?

Despite her pleading, the balance of good and evil did not pick favorites or provide special treatment.

It didn’t help that the universe and karma were collaborating to make her suffer with the most detailed and torturous plan ever devised.

 _She_ was inescapable.

Laura had seen her mowing the lawn of a sweet, old couple three blocks down. In a white, revealing tank top and short-shorts no less, fabric sticking to skin, dirt-covered hands, sweat running down the divots of her temples and the angle of her jaw in a… disgusting manner of course. Laura hadn’t lingered too much, watching her. And if she did it was for… research, more data for her mental log.

She had seen her in the shopping center, the pasta aisle to be exact, purchasing a suspicious looking box of elbow macaroni noodles that would no doubt be used later for some otherworldly witchcraft or satanic voodoo ritual. She didn’t even buy the good kind! What kind of monster goes to buy noodles and not chose the fun ones shaped like bow ties?

And finally, in the most stereotypical place of all, the thrift store. Laura was going on her usual stroll through the town when she spotted her through the front windows. She wasn’t bothered until she noticed the woman flirting with the cashier and Danny’s friend, Elsie!

Maybe it was coincidence, but Laura didn’t believe in that. She thanked her lucky stars that they hadn’t been forced to interact with each other again because that would be mortifying.

A week had passed without incident thus far. After the moment of non-stalking downtown, Laura had managed to avoid all situations relating to the stranger, other than Saturday hangouts. She had high hopes that karma was done punishing her.

Danny had invited her to play frisbee on the beach with Lafontaine, Perry, and a few of her soccer team members and she was looking forward to some much needed exercise.

The bleak weather gave them a break that afternoon, leaving the blue sky clear and the sun shining. The whole event was supposed to be good stress relief. But of course, being on the beach felt akin to taking a big test you didn’t study for or swimming out into the middle of questionable waters, no view of the bottom, sea creatures dead set on drowning you. It was stressful as shit being there.

Laura couldn’t get the stranger out of her mind for some reason. Sure, she was rude and callous, aloof and lacking empathetic qualities but she had an element of mystery that was unshakeable.

She wanted to know everything about her, to be able to read her expressions as a direct correlation between the unaccessible thoughts in her head. That wasn’t creepy, was it? Just extremely curious as always. All that, with the added bonus of physical attractiveness was quite irresistible; the odds were stacked against her!

The woman just so happened to be loitering outside her van at the same time Laura was there, cooking on a compact stove-like contraption. The amount of smoke that was floating downwind, right into the area she was running around in. It served as a statement to say: _I’m here. I’m going to be until I chose to leave and there is nothing you can do about it. That’s the gist Laura got. Yet another example of selfish assholery._

However, once she was able to immerse herself in their healthy competition, it wasn’t that bad. Laura and two other girls were in the middle of the rest of the players as they tossed the frisbee back and forth. She was at a disadvantage being shorter than the rest of them because all of their throws were high, zooming straight over her head.

Laura’s legs ached with exhaustion from jumping and failing to catch, her tank top soaked with sweat and joints threatening to pop and blow out. No matter how much she blocked or tried to intercept, the frisbee evaded her at all costs.

“C’mon Hollis!” Danny shouted, the disc spinning on her index finger. “Step your game up!”

“I think she’s a few steps too short,” Mel said, the other group members laughing at the blatant height joke. Danny tossed the frisbee to Lafontaine and they stood there, turning it over in their hands, a scheme brewing.

“Go long!” In a swift motion, they curved their arm back and across their body before swinging it forward and launching the plastic disc.

Laura took off in a powerful sprint, hot on it’s trail. It was gaining speed but so was she. With the sun shining in her eyes and her footing unstable, she stuck her hands out in wind swings, hoping the disc would land in one of them. After what felt like forever, a dull thud could be heard several feet behind her as the object made contact with the rough sand.

Laura skid, pivoting to stop dead in her tracks.

She could pick out the blood orange (it’s fucking red) of the disc, dotted with grains of dirt, resting beside a black leather combat boot. She followed the boot up to a leg, covered in blacks shorts, and then purple muscle tank top, praying to the universe that it wouldn’t be who she knew it had to be.

Laura stared at the frisbee, willing it with her newfound telepathy skills to roll over to her. But the harder she concentrated, the more she felt those familiar, intense brown eyes from a few weeks earlier staring in amusement. The nerves came rushing back full force, sending a shockwave of electric zaps up her spine.

“Well, well,” she said, her voice light and sarcastic, “If it isn’t the cutie.”

“Yep, that’s me, I guess,” Laura sighed finally addressing the woman, only to be greeted with sunglasses and a smirk.

“This yours?” she said, kicking weakly at the frisbee. Laura nodded, blinking the sweat out her corneas. She started walking toward her to retrieve the disc, but hesitated when she noticed her picking it up instead. In another odd turn of events, she reeled back in a gentle twist and threw it. The throw was aligned in a perfect spin so Laura could catch it with ease, landing right in between her palms.

“Be careful next time. You might hit someone who’s not as nice as I am.”

“You’re not exactly what I would call nice.”

 _Damn it, Laura!_ She thought to herself. _Way to put your foot in your mouth already!_

The woman’s smirk fell, similar to before. Arms crossed, shoulders hunched, boot kicking at the sand beneath her soles. Her defenses were up like an impenetrable fortress because Laura had fucked up. Again.

“Thanks,” Laura muttered.

“Don’t mention it.” The corner of her mouth twitched, just a little.

As Laura turned to leave, she could hear her mumble something but her voice was too low to understand. It must have not been that important.

-

“Great job today!” Danny said, patting her on the shoulder.

The game had finished, Laura having gained a mere 2 points in their session. Better than nothing, she supposed. The members had disbanded, cooling off with a dip in the sea or walking off their exertions.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to lie,” Laura shrugged the compliment off as she tried to hydrate herself through a river pouring from her water bottle. She splashed herself with the liquid and wiped the grime off her skin with the edge of her shirt. “I was less than stellar.”

“You’ll get better the more you practice,” Danny said, encouraging Laura like she always does.

“Of course, I do tons of that!” Laura stuttered, mustering false confidence, “It’s my goal to become Keep Away champion.”

“Don’t mess with me like that,” Danny teased.

“What, can’t take a joke, Lawrence?” She elongated the pronunciation, mocking her habit of calling people by their last names.

“Only when they’re funny.” Laura gasped, a hand covering her heart as Danny chuckled. The red head hung a towel on the back of her neck and began stretching her legs in a side lunge.

“Want me to walk you home?” She offered in an exhale, switching her weight to the other foot.

“No thanks, I’m going to stick around for a bit.”

“Just be careful, it’s getting dark and you never know who or what,” Laura strained hard to not roll her eyes, “is lurking out there.”

“I’ll be fine,” Laura huffed.

“You say that but-”

“Danny.”

“Okay, I get it.” Danny’s hands rose up to shoulder level, palms out in defeat. “See you later, Hollis.”

Once she was out of sight, Laura dropped down onto the sand. The sun was setting, casting an orangish-yellow glow across the ocean. Her eyes slipped shut as she breathed in the stillness of the evening. Most people had vacated the area with the exception of her and she who supposedly does not have a name. She listened to the absence of humans, the serene crash of the waves upon the shore, and the whistle of the ever-present breeze. She would never grow tired of that.

She remained, unmoving and one with the universe, for a moment or two before a series of sounds broke her from the trance. It sounded like a song, fragile but anchored in itself, latching onto the wind.

She couldn’t figure out the specific tune but she knew how it made her feel. The light and carefree vibrations traveled farther than the source. It enveloped her in a peacefulness, different than the one she was experiencing before. Closing her eyes again, she let herself converge with her surroundings once again.

The music ceased and the feeling was gone. Laura wiped at her eyes, noticing the layer of water that had appeared to coat them. Why was she on the verge of crying? Another tune reached her ears, much more solemn than the other. She recognized the sound being that of an acoustic guitar, deep and hollow in tone, a slow strumming pattern and paused filled with no reverberation at all.

This time, she knew who was responsible, without even checking.

Laura approached her with cautious steps, quiet as she padded through the sand, careful not to interrupt her playing. She could hear faint singing to accompany the guitar, a melody saturated with raw emotion. The woman’s eyes were shut, her perfect brows furrowed in an adorable curve. She appeared to be far off in another world, reliving the memory she had connected to the song. The vulnerability written in the lines of her face and the hunch of her body spoke volumes, revealing a side of her that Laura never knew the woman had. It was hard to see beyond the parts she had chosen to show but right now, the screen had been lifted, the smoke cleared, the facade broken.

The final chords of the song rang out. Though the atmosphere wasn’t silent, the space left by the music felt empty, like it’s absence had sucked all the joy out of ambience. Laura yearned to hear her play again, anything, as long as she did it with the same contagious passion that spread through Laura’s chest.

The woman’s eyes opened to meet her own curious gaze, as if she had sensed her presence, despite her investment in the performance. Laura couldn’t help but smile at her and was surprised when she was awarded a small smile in return.

“That was...” Laura said shaking her head, smiling growing on it’s own accord. She was at a loss for words. “Incredible.”

“It was nothing,” she deflected, fingers curling around the fretboard.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Her smile fell and Laura wondered what was wrong. It must have been her fault.

The two of them had a habit of basking in long stretches of silence. Laura couldn’t think of anything to say and the woman seemed comfortable not speaking.

“Could you play me something?” She was thinking it but hadn’t meant to vocalize it. It was too late for that.

“Now, why would I do that? When I’m an insufferable waste of time?” she remarked bitterly, mimicking the words Laura had said to her last time they spoke.

“Look, I didn’t mean-”

“You did.”

“No,” Laura interrupted, “Well... I did at the time but hear me out.” She scoffed, opening her mouth to argue but Laura was quick to shush her.

“I was angry and confused and really frustrated with you.” Laura was becoming more flustered as the seconds passed, arms flailing in time with her speech. “Not to mention, you were kind of being an asshole.”

“Kind of,” She chuckled in response.

“I was wrong to have judged you based on first impressions and I’m sorry,” Laura confessed, standing taller once the admission was out into the world.

“Save your breath, cupcake. I’m the one who should be apologizing.” Laura almost fell backwards. The woman was constantly throwing her for a loop, reacting the opposite of how she would expect.

“You’re right, I was rude,” she sighed heavily before continuing, “but I just couldn’t help teasing you.” And there was that stupid smirk again, sitting on her face like it hadn’t left, like it had a right to be there.

“Just because I apologized doesn’t mean you’re not insufferable anymore,” Laura reminded her.

“And you care about things that aren’t important.”

“You don’t know me.”

“ _You_ don’t know _me_.” She laughed but Laura wasn’t in on the joke. She was far too frustrated to ask what was so hilarious.

“May I?” Laura sighed, gesturing toward the spot next to her on the tailgate.

The woman nodded, setting her guitar down in the sand and leaning it against the van while Laura hopped up. She was just as short, if not a little shorter than the person beside her, legs dangling a few inches above the ground. Laura swung them back and forth, rocking the vehicle somewhat. Together they watched the sky change colors with the disappearing sun.

“My name is Carmilla and my favorite movie is Pan’s Labyrinth. Maybe Fifth Element, depending on the day.”

“Carmilla.” Laura grinned, testing out the name on her tongue, letting it echo through the beachfront.

“I’m Laura.” She stuck out her hand, intending to shake Carmilla’s and officiate the beginning of their friendship. Carmilla ignored her, staring out at the blue waves curling in on themselves. Laura took the hint, dropping her hand.

“I don’t have a favorite but I love Disney movies the most,” Laura provided, though she didn’t ask for an answer.

“Of course, you do.”

“What is that supposed to mean,” Laura said, the offense evident on her face.

“You look like the type.” When Carmilla saw her expression, she backtracked.  
“And by that I mean, no judgement. Disney princess are bright, independent, badass women. I think.” Laura narrowed her eyes.

“You think?”

“I haven’t seen a Disney movie since Mulan came out.” Laura gasped.

“That’s honestly more shameful than your attitude.” Carmilla frowned until she heard the other woman’s incessant giggling.

“You’re ruining my reputation,” Carmilla frowned.

“You have no reputation, Miss Cool and Disaffected.” Laura took a chance, poking Carmilla in the shoulder.

“Admit it, you’re a big softie inside.”

“You won’t get a confession out of me,” Carmilla shrugged, repressing a smile.

“Maybe someday,” Laura replied, a fond lilt in her tone. She turned forward to watch as the sun fell behind the horizon, enveloping them both in the gentle twilight.

-

The incident with the Alchemy Club’s special alcohol had forced the group to unanimously agree on toning down their shenanigans to a minimum.

Perry had been sour toward all of them, still upset about the events that had taken place, which wouldn’t have been alarming if the sentiment had excluded Lafontaine but she was acting differently around them, too.

They all drew the line at breaking the relationship fondly referred to as Laferry, deciding to forgo their nights of experimental substances in support of their friends. After several apologies were made and a week of the silent treatment, their friendships were restored and alcohol was allowed in moderation to everyone’s secret dismay.

They sat around the bonfire, roasting marshmallows per Kirsch’s request. The fire was bigger than usual to accommodate the need for cooking, smoke catching on the pier above them before diluting in the open breeze. Unfortunately, no one thought to bring ingredients for s'mores so they were stuck eating marshmallow off of sticks they had found on the beach, creating messes on their faces and the ground.

Laf had accidentally burned three of the white confections and even more on purpose. They were recording how long each treat could stay ablaze before morphing into a charred blob of disintegrated sugar. Perry kept a watchful eye on them, providing appropriate scolding when necessary in between reading pages of a knitting magazine. Danny and Mel had given up on cooking the marshmallows, instead testing their catching abilities by tossing them across the fire into each other’s mouths.

“Maybe you should slow down,” Elsie said to Laura, who was stuffing her mouth full of the delectable treats. She shook her head, too busy chewing to give a proper response. “I swear, you’re going to develop diabetes.”

“I’m fine,” Laura said, struggling to swallow her food. “I keep track of my health.”

“That’s highly unlikely,” Elsie scoffed.

“You’ve never met my dad,” Laura mumbled.

Before Elsie could respond, the sound of police sirens filled the air. Everyone in the group stilled, looking at one another. Some had panic written all over their face, others looked guilt-ridden.

“We’re in good standing with them, right?” Danny whispered like she thought her volume would alert the authorities.

“Yes, but chief is out of town,” Laf said, blowing out their latest marshmallow, “and I heard they hired a new officer, still in training. He’s not the chillest dude.”

“Scatter!” Mel shouted.

Commotion erupted seconds later.

Elsie, Laf, and Perry immediately ran, distancing themselves from the scene. Mel and Kirsch worked to push the logs into a covered position while Danny rushed to extinguish the fire. Laura just stood there in shock, watching as the situation unfolded. She was worried about a certain someone.

“Laura,” Danny called, “Get out of here!”

“Right!” Laura agreed, nodding at her.

She began sprinting, over and up the wooden stairs leading to the parking lot and access points to the pier. The sirens were louder with each passing second. It was odd to hear since there normally wasn’t a big enough crime being committed that involved their use. When she reached the top, she took a breath before making the split decision to go onto the pier itself. She heard her friends rush passed, not noticing her presence just off the path.

She was able to anticipate the police’s arrival by the red and blue lights casting a glow into the night. The patrol car drove down the beach heading straight under the pier. Laura waited to see if they would stop at their hangout area.

They didn’t stop, speeding right past, to park right next to Carmilla’s van.

Laura was torn. Part of her knew that Carmilla brought this upon herself. She was inconsiderate, ill-mannered, self absorbed, and cocky. An asshole at her best. It was technically illegal by law of the town that cars weren’t allowed on the beach beyond designated hours.

The other, much louder part of her, thought about the side of Carmilla she had witnessed not too long ago. The oddly sweet, talented version of her. The one who had given her the frisbee, told Laura her favorite movie, watched the sunset and joked with her.

There was still so much to discover about her, it was impossible to judge from a single angle. Two parts, that collided in her brain. It was incredibly confusing.

She didn’t have to do anything. She could pretend like she hadn’t even been there, go home, and let Carmilla get fined or possibly arrested for this. The other option: she could help somehow, save her from a bad run-in with the police or at least, lessen the blow. Maybe it was worth trying despite the looming failure. Carmilla deserved better than to be arrested for living her life, even if it was breaking the law.

“Besides, she did say beach was public property.” Laura groaned, sprinting back in the direction she came. It was dark and difficult for Laura to navigate without a flashlight, but when she finally approached Carmilla and the officer, she could hear them arguing.

“I can tell that you’re lying to me,” the man shouted. “Why are you parked here after hours!”

“Listen, the beach is public property and I can do what I want,” Carmilla replied with unbreakable confidence.

“I can have you arrested for disorderly conduct.”

“Under what specific reason?” she smirked.

“Under the reason that you’re being a b-”

“Excuse me,” Laura cut in, glancing over the officer's shoulder to see Carmilla. She smiled before glaring at the officer again.

“I couldn’t help but overhear an argument. What seems to be the problem, officer?” He looked the type to fall for an innocent act. Short buzzed hair, on the younger side of 30, ripped muscles and pretentious. Worse than Carmilla.

“Your friend here,” he accused with the point of a finger, “is parked after hours on this beach and I’m about two seconds away from arresting her.”

“I understand, sir.” Laura said in a rush. “There’s a good explanation for this.”

“Go on,” He prompted.

“As you can see, her van is fairly old and needs constant work to keep it in driving condition.”

“Hey!” Carmilla interrupted, offended. Laura gave her a stern glare before continuing.

“She was parked here in the afternoon and when she went to leave, it wouldn’t start!” She exaggerated her laughs, gasping for air. “Isn’t that the funniest thing!”

“We were going to move the car as soon as it was fixed,” Carmilla added.

The officer eyed them both suspiciously, then turned to face Carmilla.

“Consider this a warning.” His voice was hard, cold.

“Next time I catch you, I’m towing the car and taking you downtown.” When the rant was over, he tipped his hat. He wished them a good night lacking in sincerity and went back to his vehicle. Both of the women watched as he sped into the darkness and out of sight.

“Well, that was a kick,” Carmilla spoke, rubbing the back of her neck. Laura surged forward to hug her. She held on in a brief grip but let go when she realized her mistake. She stepped back, leaving some distance between them.

“You asshole!” Laura yelled, her serious attitude crumbling. She was alternating between anger, relief, and unstoppable laughter and didn’t know which was winning.

“So you’ve said, before.” To anyone else, it would have sounded like Carmilla was hurt but the twinkle in her eyes told Laura otherwise.

“What were you thinking, fighting with a cop like that!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, cupcake.” Carmilla smirked. “I didn’t throw any punches.” Laura ignored the statement and the unspoken yet that was to follow, focusing on her own feelings.

“Do you know how worried I was! You could have gone to jail!”

“I doubt jail is that big of a deal here,” She shrugged, shifting from one foot to the other. “Worried about me, huh?” Laura froze.

“Worried, as in, you totally would have caused an even bigger scene and that would have been really annoying to deal with later tonight.” She ducked her head, chewing on her lip. “All the noise and stuff.”

“Right,” Carmilla said.

“Right,” Laura mirrored back.

“What are you doing out so late?” Carmilla said, changing the subject. Laura was grateful she had escaped with minimal embarrassment and a slight blush.

“It’s Saturday. I was hanging out with my friends,” Laura said, “We do this every weekend.”

“Interesting.”

“You know, in some places, interesting is a synonym for calling someone on their bullshit.” Carmilla raised her eyebrows in faux surprise.

“Wow, I would have never known!” She continued, keeping up the charade just to mock Laura.

“Ha, ha,” Laura exaggerated, “Well, I better get going.” She threw her thumb over her shoulder, pointing to the dimly lit town. Everyone was most likely asleep at this time, unaware of the rendezvous.

“Of course,” Carmilla said. As Laura turned to leave, she called out to her.

“You didn’t have to do that for me.” Laura was struck by the timid quality as she spoke.

“I know,” she nodded.

“Thank you.” Carmilla’s expression was different. It wasn’t the smug smirk or the apathetic mask to block her out. She had a genuine look of gratitude.

“Yeah, well, you owe me one,” Laura joked to alleviate the serious mood. There was a stall in the conversation as she thought of what to do next.

“I was thinking,” Carmilla started, uncertainty breaking her voice and shattering her composure, “You could come visit me sometime?”

“I would love that,” Laura said, the grin spreading across her entire face, “See you later, Carm.” And with a final wave, she strolled away.

“See you,” Carmilla whispered to Laura, though she was not there to hear.


	4. How the Cookie Crumbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: discussion of past emotional abuse

Laura was a secret procrastinator.

On the outside, she appeared calm and collected in most situations. For example, homework. She would feed her friends excuses about waiting to complete an assignment because she had “more important things to do” and could finish it in no time at all (they didn’t really believe her but she kept the act up anyway, refusing to let go of her pride).

The truth was a different story, however; she was a mess of anxiety, putting off work until the last moments because she was insecure. If something wasn’t perfect, she may as well have not done it at all.

So when Carmilla had invited her to visit, Laura drew back into habit like her bed sheets at home.

She was so excited that those feelings evolved into nervousness. Summer was in full swing and her schedule was completely free for goodness sake! Still, she sat at home, binge-watching through an endless amount of shows on Netflix, thinking about the woman in the van and what she was doing at any given moment. Even with every season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer right at her fingertips, she couldn’t be distracted.

Carmilla was unpredictable, a contradiction that she might never understand. When she spoke, there were hidden messages, stories behind the words she chose. Where she came from, where she had been, all there coded in diction, waiting for Laura to understand. There was something so _human_ about her, with experiences and raw emotion that Laura hadn’t gotten in her own life. And she knew it was wrong to be so infatuated but she wasn’t about to stop herself. No self control, remember?

She was at an unwavering standstill. If she approached Carmilla too soon, she would look desperate, far too interested than she wanted her aware of. But if she waited too long, Carmilla would think she wasn’t interested in being her friend. Which she was, in the most infuriating way.

In Laura’s mind, the only option was to wait it out.

-

When Laura had finally worked up the courage to see Carmilla, it was only through the excuse of a good meal. She wasn’t sure what her food preferences were but figured she had to eat because she was a human and that how humans survive. Unless, she was a vampire (Laura had some connections, but none of them could hook her up with _that_ kind of favor). Food was also a great conversation starter, when both parties weren’t shoving stuff into their mouths. Good for filling silence, which Laura was proficient at but in a terrible, rambling manner.

She had ordered a variety of to-go foods from Sandy Toe’s diner to cover all her bases: a burger and fries (big enough for both of them share), salad (vegetables, yuck), chicken tenders, a veggie burger (progressive, for a small town), a few bottles of water, and a dozen of their famous Choco Chunk cookies. The cookies were for herself but she would surrender a few if Carmilla begged hard enough. Laura had spent a good portion of her savings to purchase all of this, but food was always worth it.

Carmilla hadn’t told her when to show up, so she was left to take the initiative. She assumed anytime would be alright because she didn’t seem very busy, what with the van life and all.

It was somewhere around noon, the sun shining through sparse white clouds, drifting leisurely across the sky, atypical weather for Styria this time of year. The bike ride to the beach had been pleasant, a warm breeze blowing through Laura’s untied hair until she reached the sand, trying to ride through it with stubborn petaling. She kept slipping in a zigzag motion, no traction for the tires to grab onto. Eventually, she gave up, instead choosing to walk next to the useless contraption, the bags of food hanging from her elbows and mouth. She traveled slow, ensuring none of the contents were ruined.

Upon arrival, she could see Carmilla laying flat on her back atop the van. She was wearing her usual tank top, shorts, and sunglasses. She appeared to be relaxing as the sun shone on her exposed limbs. Laura let her bike fall to the ground with a dull thud, before letting out a broken whistle to grab Carmilla’s attention. The woman sat up, moving her glasses to the top of her head, a futile attempt at taming her curly black mane.

“Cupcake!” Carmilla exclaimed. She stretched her arms above her head languidly like a cat waking from a nap. She jumped down from the roof to land quite close to Laura. “So glad you could make it.” Her smile was unfamiliar, too sincere for her normal disposition. She was used to Carmilla’s annoying smirk, but she looked genuinely pleased that she came to visit. Uncertain how to respond, Laura flailed.

“I brought food,” she lifted the bag, which rustled with each movement.

“You sure know the way to a person’s heart,” Carmilla winked, taking the bags from Laura, brushing their hands together in the transfer. She nodded her head to the side, asking her to follow. They walked for a few paces, stopping at a concrete wall erected near the drop off from the main street and neighborhoods. Carmilla placed the food on the wall before hopping up. She unpacked each container, checking their insides.

“You went all out,” Carmilla said with a whistle, much more tonal than Laura’s, basking in the colorful array of choices.

“I just wasn’t sure what your eating preferences were,” Laura stuttered, still standing a few feet away.

“I’m a pretty simple gal. Can’t really be picky without a kitchen and resources to cook with,” Carmilla said, ripping a bite off of a chicken tender she had snatched from one of the styrofoam containers. Sensing Laura’s hesitance, she tried to ease her nerves.

“It’s great, Laura. Thank you.” She smiled shyly in response, a pit growing in her stomach at Carmilla’s use of her name and the rare gratitude… or not so rare, now that they were acquaintances or something.

“You’re welcome to join me,” Carmilla teased, “As hard as I might try, I’ll get sick if I eat it all this myself.”

Laura hopped up next to her, reaching over to grab the burger. She cut it in half and placed the container of fries in between them. The two focused on eating their food rather than speaking to each other, until Carmilla tried to start a food fight with the leftovers, fries hitting her neck and cheek periodically. Laura wasn’t having it.

“Leftovers are sacred in my family,” she had said with a disapproving frown. Carmilla still got a few good hits in, though. Carmilla ate all of the chicken and salad, the fries used purely used as ammunition. Laura ate most of the burger and fries, along with a cookie or two, which Carmilla was very interested in, just to frustrate her.

“Give me a cookie,” She demanded.

“No,” Laura said, biting off a part of the treat to taunt her.

“And why not?” Carmilla drawled.

“You said, and I quote,” Laura said, gearing up for a terrible impression, “I don’t particularly like the taste of sweets.” She lowered her voice to give it the rich tone Carmilla’s voice adorned.

“Yes but I like yours, so give,” Carmilla said, reaching toward the cookie in Laura’s hand. She intercepted with a swift karate chop, each of their arms suspended in the air in an X shape.

“Don’t you dare,” Laura warned through suppressed giggles.

“I do dare, Laura,” She annunciated with her unofficially trademarked devilish smirk. If Laura wasn’t so keen on protecting her precious cookie, she would have paid more attention to the seductive look on Carmilla’s face.

Laura made an abrupt counter defense, jumping off the wall in a sprint, running toward the shore. She dodged some birds and a lone man laying on a towel before entering a clear area. They both splashed through the water, skimming the waves, Carmilla close on her heels. Laura turned and Carmilla slowed when she caught up. They stared each other down, both on edge. A show down was bound to commence.

“I want that cookie, sweetheart.”

“There’s plenty more back at our spot.”

“Yeah, but I want that specific one. And you’re going to give it to me,” Carmilla said, staring at her through slits. She was so smug that Laura wanted to show her who was boss.

“Over my sugar-deprived body,” Laura said, a glint reflecting in her eyes. She bit another part off, leaving a mere third left. Carmilla lunged toward her, causing Laura to shuffle back. At the same moment, a wave had dissipated, raising the ocean above ankle level.

Laura began to run but the resistance of water was too strong, causing her to stumble. The last piece of the cookie flew from her hand, landing a few inches in front of her. It immediately began to soak up the fluid and broke apart due to the added weight. Carmilla came to stand beside Laura, who was gaping at the ruined remnants.

“That’s...” she paused, calculating in her head, “thirty-three cents of cookie I’ll never enjoy.” They watched as the dessert pieces were pulled into the ocean and devoured by the next crashing wave. Laura sniffled, mourning the loss. Carmilla noticed an adorable pout forming on her face.

“I suppose I owe you a solid. And thirty-three cents.”

Laura burst with sudden laughter, startling Carmilla.

“We are ridiculous,” she said when her uncontrollable giggles had ceased.

“We?” Carmilla chuckled, curious.

“You were involved in this whole ordeal,” She gestured to them and the ocean to emphasize her point, “So yeah, we.”

“I don’t do ridiculous. I am calloused and composed,” Carmilla said.

“And kleptomanic,” Laura added.

“That isn’t a word.”

“I said it, therefore, it’s a word.” Laura argued, fists curled at her sides.

“I mean, technically but-”

“Oh shut up. Let’s go get another cookie,” Laura said vehemently, stomping in the direction of the van.

-

The walk back to Carmilla’s van was uncomfortable at best. Not because of tension from their brawl or awkwardness of a lone cookie casualty, their conversations were actually flowing well because of it. The problem was the wetness that Laura had forgot to consider when running straight to the beach. They had retrieved the abandoned food and Laura’s thighs were chaffing each time she stepped. Her shorts had been soak half way up her thigh, little droplets of water staining her shirt. Carmilla was in the same state, but seemed less bothered than Laura, who had been complaining since she felt the raw skin.

“God, cupcake, do you ever stop complaining?” Carmilla groaned, reaching for the keys in her pocket.

“Yes!” Laura said, “When I’m not soaking wet and covered in sand!”

Carmilla yanked open the tailgate of her van. She climbed in, stopping somewhere in the middle section. She rifled through both of her drawers before flinging a towel and basketball shorts at Laura in a ball of cloth. “Here,” she finished with a sigh, coming back out and around through the driver door to join her. A blush coated Laura’s cheeks.

“Where am I supposed to change?”

“Right here, sweetheart.” Laura did not appreciate the leering from Carmilla.

“Don’t worry, no one is around and I’ll look away.” She turned around, true to her word as Laura scrambled to remove the clothes clinging to her. She had been wearing a bikini underneath her clothes but was unsettled by the thought of Carmilla in the presence of her half naked, vulnerable state. When she was done, she alerted Carmilla, dropping her dirty clothes on the ground besides her bike. She would regret that later, probably.

“Thanks, Carm.” Laura beamed at her, grateful for the generosity. Carmilla rolled her eyes.

“Anything to stop your complaining.”

The sun was beginning it’s descent in the sky, but Laura didn’t really want to go home yet. She was having a wonderful time with Carmilla, though she would not admit it for the sake of saving herself from incessant teasing and bragging from Carmilla’s inflated ego. Despite that, she didn’t want to intrude on the woman’s life.

“Spit it out,” Carmilla spoke up, “You look as if you’re about to explode.”

“I was wondering if I could-”

“See my van?” Carmilla finished for her.

“If you knew what I was going to say, why not offer?” Laura huffed.

“It’s much more satisfying having you admit it. Also, her name is Billie,” Carmilla remarked. She walked to the front of the vehicle, entering it and sitting in the driver’s seat. She started the engine, before fiddling with the radio. She changed through several stations, ultimately deciding on her own personal CD collection. She inserted a homemade “mix tape” into the slot and raised the volume. An indie song Laura had never heard began filling the air, permeating to where she was standing at the back of the vehicle. Carmilla rolled down the window, her top half in a precarious lean outside.

“I’ll let you in through the back,” she said, Laura squealing in delight.

After a few moments, Carmilla unlocked the tailgate, inviting Laura in. She shut the door behind her, letting herself get situated on the comfortable bedding beneath her. The cabin was dark until Carmilla drew the deep red curtains back, allowing the dim sunshine outside to fill the room.

This was the first time Laura had seen the interior in proper viewing light and she was struck by the cozy atmosphere. There wasn’t much space to move around but the decoration made it feel bigger than it was. From first glance, Carmilla had everything she needed with what little she had.

“So, this is it.”

“That’s all?” Laura asked incredulously.

“I think it speaks for itself,” Carmilla shrugged.

“Carm,” Laura whined, “Please, show me around.” Carmilla couldn’t resist the puppy dog eyes and pout Laura was using against her, no matter how stupid the idea seemed.

“Well, this is my bedroom,” Carmilla said as Laura took in her surroundings. The bedding material beneath her was navy blue, soft and more deflated than a normal comforter. It had lost fluff over the usage. Several pillows sat next to Carmilla.

“How do you sleep?”

“I lay down, close my eyes, and-” Laura stopped her.

“I mean, how do you situate yourself in this mess?” Carmilla chose to ignore the insult in favor of telling Laura how she slept, which was important to her for whatever reason.

“Your ass is usually where my pillow and my head would go.”

“So that means…” Laura smiled, her mind circulating through all the devious plans she could enact being in this particular spot on her bed.

“Yes, so please don’t fart.”

“Carm!” Laura gasped between a snort, “I wouldn’t.”

“You say that now, but we both know you can be vindictive.”

Once Laura’s laughter died down, she noticed the decorations on the walls enclosing them. There was a mirror hanging and a shelf serving as a resting sight for random trinkets on Carmilla’s side and on hers, there were several pictures strung up in a mismatched pattern. Some of them featured Carmilla herself, people she didn’t recognize, beautiful landscapes, and one of the cutest dogs Laura had ever seen.

“Don’t ask,” Carmilla shook her head, almost as if she could read her mind, “Not yet.”

She sounded too vulnerable and insecure for the Carmilla she knew. All Laura did was nod, respecting her wishes.

“The kitchen area has some seating,” she continued. Leading the way, Carmilla crawled off of the bed into the middle of the van, Laura following suit. Carmilla grabbed the end of the bed, folding it up to make a small seat big enough for the both of them. From their position, she could see the rest of the interior in all it’s glory.

Laura was in complete awe of the front parts of the walls, which were covered with random pieces of paper instead of pictures. Some of them were news clippings, magazine cut-outs, postcards, maps and brochures. There was still a lot of space left open that Carmilla had not filled.

There was a cabinet on the right, just below a window, covered in personal supplies and kitchen utensils: a plate, bowl, and set of silverware. Straight ahead, attached to the front seats, was a folding desk with a portable stove and portable toilet (that was empty, thank Dumbledore) below. Across the cabinet was several jugs of water and a pair of scuffed leather boots. The curtain separating the driving compartment from the rooms was open, showing off Carmilla’s guitar that rested in the passenger seat. The dashboard was covered in dust, a few books strew about the surface.

“Everything I own is out in the open or shoved into that cabinet.” Laura tried to imagine what it would be like having a lack of personal things. She was too sentimental to leave most of it behind.

“Underneath is my closet.” Laura bent over, noticing two drawer handles sticking out, grazing her calves.

“And that’s pretty much it,” Carmilla said, “Except, I have some more stuff on the rack above us.” She reached up, pressing on a disk stuck to the ceiling. It lit up, casting a fluorescent flow on the pair.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Laura tore her eyes from the walls and looked at Carmilla.

“Am I allowed to ask more questions?” She rushed out, struggling to contain herself. Carmilla sighed.

“Yes but-”

“Thank god! Carm, this place is amazing! I know it’s small but you’ve really made it your own and I think it’s great that you’ve got power and a full bed and space to move around. I mean there’s a lot of leg room! I just wasn’t expecting it to be so cool! And how you decorated it? It’s one of the most creative things I’ve ever seen,” Laura rambled enthusiastically, “Just. Wow.”

“Slow down, your tongue is gonna fly out,” Carmilla said, “You definitely need it for… certain activities.”

“Yeah, like eating and talking.” Laura replied with modesty. There was an uncomfortable blush rising on her cheeks and she didn’t want Carmilla to know the affect she had on her. “Speaking of eating, what do you eat?”

“Nevermind, don’t answer that.” Laura backtracked, trying to avoid another awkward moment. Carmilla chuckled, sparing her the embarrassment by changing the subject.

-

There was an unspoken agreement between the two women, suggesting that Laura could visit whenever she pleased. Their first official hang out had gone well; they spent hours in Carmilla’s van (Billie, as she so often reminded Laura to call her) listening to music and talking about anything that entered conversation. Laura knew to stray away from the topic of Carmilla’s past and upon respecting those wishes, seemed to be rewarded with little facts here and there.

She had mentioned her time on the road had amounted to 2 years. She had been so many different places but could remember them all. She mentioned a sister in passing and it was enough to satisfy Laura for the time being.

It was obvious she wasn’t an open book. Carmilla liked to keep secrets about herself and exude an air of mystery, which was both alluring and frustrating to Laura, the complete opposite of herself. She was more than willing to share the intimate details of her life, perhaps a little too eagerly. If someone didn’t stop her, she would overshare about whatever came to mind. She had already told Carmilla stories about her father, family traditions, and memorable situations she had found herself in over the course of her life. It wasn’t a lot but Carmilla seemed entertained nonetheless.

So Laura kept coming back, nearly every other day with different motives and objectives. Most often, she would bring food. She continued to play it safe, circulating through the entire Sandy Toe’s menu before moving on to the other three restaurants in the area.

Once they had exhausted their tastebuds and Laura’s bank account (she refused to let Carmilla pay), she began bringing meals her father had made or kitchen experiments of her own. Other times, she brought card games for them to play, magazines and newspapers for Carmilla to catch up on all the things she had missed. They stayed confined to Billie, except for the time Laura insisted Carmilla go grocery shopping when she found out she was living on nothing but ramen noodles and other canned foods. However, it was a long fight, getting Carmilla to acquiesce. They spent a lot of time arguing about it. Carmilla felt she was being babied by Laura, whereas Laura just saw it as helping out a friend.

Laura was currently in the middle of convincing Carmilla to let her clean her clothes.

“But if you use mine, you won’t have to pay!” Laura said, staring at a defiant Carmilla.

“Cupcake, I’ve got enough money to spare for a load of laundry and some detergent.” She shot back, fighting Laura with the same ferocity.

“You’re all about efficiency, right?” Laura asked, head tilted. “Put your metaphorical money where your mouth is! Doing combined laundry saves money, time, and water!”

“Laura, I can’t,” Carmilla groaned. “You’re doing way too much for me. I already owe you like… ten favors.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Carm.” Laura smiled sincerely, touching Carmilla’s bicep. “Friends help each other out.”

“So we’re friends now, huh? What happened to all those angsty feelings from before?” Carmilla raised her eyebrows, a smirk already in the works, forming on her attractive face.

“There was a distinct lack of angsty feelings, none from me over here in any capacity,” Laura stumbled, deflecting the verbal jab. Carmilla hummed, clearly disbelieving.

“What if you come over and do it with me?” Laura’s voice was hesitant, unsure if the proposition would be well received.

“Do what?”

“Laundry.” Carmilla side-eyed Laura in amusement, who was twisting her own fingers in a delicate tangle.

“That’s far too domestic for us… though, I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad,” Carmilla spoke up after considering the offer, “As long as I don’t owe you anything.” She gave her a lopsided smirk in response to Laura’s wide grin.

“Great!” Laura exclaimed with a little hop, “How about right now?” They had just finished lunch, both nursing their full stomachs, scattered bits of trash laid around them.

“I don’t know, my schedule is pretty busy,” Carmilla said.

“Lazing around and reading all day isn’t exactly time consuming.”

“It is when you’re me.” Laura scoffed, hopping off of their established lunch spot on the wall. She grabbed Carmilla’s bare foot and began tugging on it.

“Come on,” She whined again, putting on her signature pout expression that even Carmilla wasn’t immune to.

“Fine,” Carmilla said with feigned stoicism, “but we’re taking Billie.”

-

Laura’s house was located a short distance from the beach, tucked in the corner of a cul de sac.

It was a small, one story building with faded white paint and a blue roof that hadn’t been retiled since it was first constructed. There was a porch big enough for Laura and her dad to sit on during the summer nights to drink beverages and reminisce. There wasn’t a garage, which wasn’t a problem; the Hollis’s didn’t own a car. Laura had never left the small town of Styria since she’d moved there at the age of three.

She doesn’t remember her previous life but Sherman Hollis never withheld background information. Laura had been adopted from a mother who couldn’t take care of her. She had no memory of the woman and had no desire to find out more.

They had a long line of relatives who lived in many other states and countries across the world but none of them kept in regular contact. Her dad didn’t mention them often, but when he did, it was stories about her grandparents in Europe who had died before she was born.

She would have loved to know them but his memories would have to be enough. As far as she was concerned, her dad was the only family she needed. It was just the two of them against the world and Laura found strength in their relationship.

The neighborhood itself was dull, typical of an old beachfront residency. Most of her neighbors were either hitting their mid-life crisis phase or were several years into retirement.

There was a lot of camaraderie between all of them. Everyone knew each other and lended their help in times of trouble. It ranged from small things, like borrowed eggs, to big ordeals, such as the time Ms. Glenn’s cat went missing. The whole town searched for hours before finding the runaway pet hiding under her bed.

It wasn’t the “hippest” place to live by societal standards but there were perks to less young adult inhabitants i.e. the older community all went to bed collectively around 10 pm and from then on, the area was quiet.

Carmilla pulled into their driveway, Billie squeaking as she struggled to stop on the slight incline. Laura was quick to exit the van, waving a brief greeting next door to Mrs. Johnson tending to her precious lilies. When she approached the doorstep, she didn’t wait for Carmilla, who was taking her sweet time, to unlock the door and remove her shoes. She was well into the living room before Carmilla finally passed through the threshold and closed the door behind her.

“Laura?”

“Boo!” Laura shouted from an entryway just a few meters in front of her. She stepped out into the hall with a smile, arms extended above her. “Welcome to the Hollis Home.”

Once Carmilla had removed her shoes, per Laura’s request, she took the woman on a tour of her own home. It was polite, considering Carmilla’s rendition of a tour in her van.

There was a short foyer with a coat rack and a modest pile of shoes underneath it. The white walls were lined with pictures of Laura and Sherman. Off to the left was the kitchen, which featured all the amenities and a wood dining table with four chairs. Straight ahead was the living room. It had a worn couch, coffee table, and television.

Laura took her down another hallway that had several doorways connected to it. The bathroom and Laura’s room were on the right, her dad’s bedroom and a utility closet on the left.

At the end of the hall was the whole reason for this home visit: the laundry room. It was fairly compact, just enough room for two people to stand without breaking each other’s personal boundaries.

“I left my clothes outside,” Carmilla said, staring at the room. She was used to small space, little elbow room, but she was used to it on her own. Being so close to Laura was like suffocating and Carmilla had never been happier to experience near asphyxiation. “I’ll be back.”

Laura just nodded, starting to sort through the basket of dirty clothes already occupying the hamper in the corner. When she came back, she dumped her clothes on the floor, mixing them with Laura’s.

“I had intended to wash yours separately, but that’ll do,” Laura replied, frowning at the collage of black and various shades of the rainbow that their clothes created.

“Less water, remember?”

“Right,” Laura said, “Help me separate all this again.”

The two worked in silence, sorting their clothes into dark and lights. Laura couldn’t help but notice a pair of risque lingerie in between clusters of band t-shirts. Carmilla chuckled as Laura gagged, using a single finger to pick up the offending garments and throw them into the light pile. Luckily, Laura had retired her… special unmentionables… since she hadn’t been in a relationship since high school.

“Really, cupcake?” Carmilla asked, holding up her favorite pajama pants. They were made of the softest material she had ever felt, blue and dotted with rubber ducks.

“They’re comfortable!” Laura roughly ripped them from Carmilla’s grasp.

Once everything had been sorted, they inserted the first load. Laura had forgotten to take into account the time that it took to wash and dry large sets of clothes. She hadn’t planned to entertain a guest.

“Wanna watch a movie while we wait?” Carmilla shrugged in response and Laura interpreted that as a yes.

She rushed down the hall, practically sliding down on her knees once she reached the living room. She was crouched, skimming through all the movies they had in their collection kept in the cabinets under the television mount.

“Have any preferences?” Laura’s voice was muffled, stuck far into the wooden confinement.

“No,” Carmilla said, plopping down onto the couch in a diagonal slouch. Her head rested on back of the couch and her legs stretched out but left enough room for Laura.

After several minutes of thoughtful debating, she settled on a choice, sliding the disc into the player. Carmilla knew she had made a mistake the second children’s movie commercials started playing in preview before the actual movie.

“I should have anticipated a lack of adult films.” Carmilla’s head fell to the back in defeat, her body rocking as Laura jumped beside her.

“You don’t even know what I chose yet!” Laura crossed her legs, getting comfortable. “Plus, this movie has a lot of grown up themes.” She made a noise of surprise, clambering off the couch and rushing to the kitchen. Carmilla could hear frantic opening of cabinets and a refrigerator. When she came back, Laura was holding a bag of chips in her arms.

“I need a snack if we’re going to do this,” Laura sat down again, this time with less zeal and aggression, settling next to her. Vermillion filled the screen behind the word “Matilda”.

A flash of recognition crossed Carmilla’s face that Laura definitely picked up on.

“You’ve seen it?”

“Something like that,” Carmilla muttered before turning her attention to the screen. Laura would munch on her chips, tending to the laundry when the buzzer’s called out but Carmilla remained engrossed in the movie.

As the ending credits rolled, awkward movement in Laura’s peripheral vision prompted her to glance at Carmilla for the first time since they began watching. She was wiping at her face in a rapid pace, trying her best to erase the evidence of tear tracks on her alabaster cheeks.

“Carm?” Laura asked gently, “Are you crying?”

“No,” she replied, “Some dust flew out of your couch when you sat down and it activated my allergies.”

Laura chose not to respond. She knew Carmilla was lying but didn’t want to call her out on it for fear of making her uncomfortable or pushing her boundaries. She got up for what seemed like the millionth time to find Carmilla’s some toilet paper to use in substitute for tissues.

She returned to the woman, who was still struggling to keep her emotions in check. She took them gratefully with a small smile before wiping her nose. Laura placed a hand on her thigh, wanting her to know she was there in support. The silence stretched until Carmilla spoke up on her own accord.

“I used to watch this movie as a kid,” Carmilla confessed, “I could relate to Matilda.”

Laura nodded slowly, processing the implications of a statement like that.

“My mom wasn’t exactly the parent of the year,” She chuckled mirthlessly. “She was always so critical of everything I did. Sometimes, it was homework, which I suppose was normal. I worked my hardest and still wasn’t good enough for her.”

“When I made the mistake of sharing my music, my photographs, my art with her, it was even worse. She ridiculed me, tore me apart from the inside out. She disapproved of my passions, thought it was a waste of time. It’s fucked up, but it stung the most out of everything she critiqued me for.”

“I’m so sorry, Carm,” Laura said, tears brimming her own eyes, the words “waste of time” echoing in her head. Words she herself had used like weapons to hurt Carmilla during their first encounter. It was an honest mistake, a coincidence. Laura felt regret settle heavily on her shoulders.

“It’s okay, I’ve forgiven her for my own sake. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, but her abuse made me stronger. It gave me the push I needed to create a life for myself.” Laura was dumbfounded, speechless. She sympathized with Carmilla on a level that was beyond words.

“I got the last laugh anyway. She had big plans for me but I wasn’t going to allow her such power over me.” She smiled, a genuine smile, that spread through all her features.

“She sounds like a shit mother,” Laura chuckled, “But what would I know, I never had one.” Carmilla face fell in an instant.

“That came out much more bitter than I intended,” Laura winced. “I love my dad and wouldn’t trade him for anyone but sometimes, I can’t help wondering what it would be like to have a mom.”

“I never had a dad.” The two looked at each other, a wave of understanding passing through them.

“I can’t speak for all dads but, mine is a dork. When I was younger, he tried his best to give me the life I would have had with two parents. He took me shopping and to the few sports events we held in town. Never complained once. His masculinity isn’t as fragile as most men's.” That elicited an honest laugh from Carmilla, Laura’s face heating up.

“He makes the stupidest jokes, teases me all the time, but supports me in every way he can. He doesn’t say it often but I know he loves me. Unconditionally.”

“He sounds lovely, cupcake.” There was still a smile on Carmilla’s face and Laura knew she was saying the right things.

“We’ve had our fair share of struggle, though.” Carmilla nodded, silently telling her to continue.

“He is supportive, but sometimes, most times, overbearing. He was extremely protective and wouldn’t let me do anything without gearing me up or investigating the situation first. As I got older, you could see how that caused problems,” Laura said, her sentence punctuated with a frown, remembering countless arguments.

“My sister, Mattie, was the same way when I first lived with her. Technically, I wasn’t supposed to be with her at all so anytime I left the house, it had to be... under careful circumstances.”

“That really sucks ass,” Laura sighed, shoving a handful of chips into her mouth.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Carmilla replied, following suit in Laura’s chip eating.

“How about you pick the movie this time,” Laura offered, gesturing with her head toward the shelf of movies just waiting to be rewatched.

Carmilla groaned but stood up, accepting her movie fate.

-

_Laura was standing in the middle of a forest, looking up at the trees that formed a canopy above her head. Dew collected on each leaf, some still, others falling with a light tap on the damp soil._

_The overcast clouds covered the sky in an ominous gray. She had never been to this place before but wasn’t afraid of the unknown. It was a beautiful sight to see. A persistent, calm vibration spread through her whole body, keeping her in balance._

_Carmilla stood several meters ahead of her, resting on a tree branch, her face looking more peaceful than it ever had. She was gazing out into the distance, searching the horizon though the view was obstructed with a thin layer of fog. Laura was just about to join her, giving in and succumbing to the vision when she was pulled into sudden darkness._

“Laura!” Someone was whispering to her and it sounded urgent.

“Hmm,” she whined, twisting to regain her comfortable position and fall back into gentle sleep. She wanted to continue her dream.

“Laura, wake up!” A big hand was shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes, wanting the interruption to stop.

It was hard to see in the darkness, the room illuminated only by the light of the television. She could just make out her dad, who was leaning in very closely to her face. He was still dressed in his work, signifying he had just returned from his shift at the office.

“Oh, hey dad,” Laura replied through a yawn, “D’you just get back?”

“Yeah, kiddo. Who’re you sleeping with?” It clicked in Laura’s brain all at once. She had been watching movies with Carmilla, specifically Coraline, before she had fallen asleep. And a quick look to her left confirmed the woman had also fallen asleep and was using her other shoulder as a pillow.

“Shit,” Laura cursed under her breath. Sherman stood there, waiting for his daughter to continue.

“This isn’t how I planned you two meeting.” Laura blushed. “Why don’t you go make some tea and I’ll wake up the ‘Sleeping Broody’ over here.” She emphasised her words with a little shrug, which prompted Carmilla to shift in her sleep and cuddle closer to Laura.

While her dad left to tend to the drinks, Laura was left with the task of waking up the heaviest sleeper in existence.

“Carmilla?” She continued to sleep, breathing deeply, blowing the hair that had messed it’s way into her face.

“Carm,” Laura sing-songed, poking her in the cheek. She groaned but refused to become lucid.

“Carm!” Laura said with more force, wiggling her shoulder again.

“No,” Carmilla grumbled, sliding away from Laura and covering her face with her arms.

“We accidentally fell asleep, it’s around 8 pm,” she whispered.

“Don’t care,” Carmilla said, curling further into herself.

Laura repeated her name once more, stretched out and as shrill as she could manage like a high pitched version of Tina from Bob’s Burgers.

“Fine,” Carmilla groaned. She sat up, her hair becoming an even frizzier mess than before. She rubbed at her eyes, stretching the sleep from her bones. “You are a comfortable pillow, cutie.”

“That’s just the sleep talking,” Laura said with a giggle. “Want some tea?”

“Sure.”

Laura stood up, doing some of her own stretches. She turned off the television before walking over to turn on their lamp in the corner.

“Bright.” Carmilla complained, having been adjusted to the darkness for so long. Laura ignored her, plopping down on the couch. Sounds of the microwave heating up water and cups being laid out filtered into the living room.

“My dad is home.”

“Oh?”.

“He wants to meet you.” Carmilla’s face scrunched up with uneasiness. Laura mirrored her actions from earlier, her hand finding it’s spot on Carmilla’s knee.

“It’ll be okay,” Laura said, “I like you and so will he.”

Carmilla didn’t get the chance to comment on Laura’s confession before Mr. Hollis entered the room, balancing three cups of tea and several jars of condiments in his arms.

“I wasn’t sure what our guest would like so I brought the whole lot.” He placed the sugar, salt, cream, and honey on the coffee table beside the cups.

“Thanks dad!” Laura replied, her normal cheer returning from her obstructive sleepiness. “How was work?”

“Same as always,” He took a sip of his tea, his face souring. He swallowed, wincing in pain. “Too hot!” Laura scolded her dad while Carmilla sat there, feeling out of place.

“So dad, this is Carmilla,” She said, picking up the container of honey, “Carmilla, this is my dad.”

“Sherman Hollis,” He introduced, sticking out his hand from across the table. Laura struggled to keep her jaw hinged as she watched Carmilla shake his hand. Carmilla shaking a hand, being polite, without force. What multiverse had she slipped into?

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” Mr. Hollis said as he released Carmilla’s hand, “My daughter is keen on all things Carmilla.” A choking noise could be heard coming from the opposite end of the couch.

“That really isn’t- It’s not like that.” Laura couldn’t stop the blush from showing, but maybe she could wipe the infuriating smirk off Carmilla’s face.

“Interesting,” Carmilla remarked, “She shares the same sentiments about you and your adventures together, Mr. Hollis.” Her smirk fell into a timid smile.

“Call me Sherman, please.” He smiled.

From that point on, the conversation had carried at it normally would if it was just her and her dad. They shared highlights of the day, told a few jokes, and managed to fit in a few embarrassing stories from the past.

It was different with Carmilla there. Laura’s stomach flipped at the thought that Carmilla’s presence made everything warm, better. It felt right, as if a space she never knew was unoccupied, had been filled.

“Well, it was lovely talking with you two but I best be off for tonight.” He gulped down the rest of his tea, setting the empty cup on the table.

“Yeah, I should probably go anyway,” Carmilla said.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.” Mr. Hollis smiled again and turned to his daughter.

“Goodnight, Laura,” He said, hugging her from her spot on the couch, “Be careful and don’t forget if anyone tries to break in, there’s a baseball bat underneath the-”

“I know, dad.” He chuckled and said one final goodnight to Carmilla. The two shared a look, communicating an understanding that went over Laura’s head. With a nod, he walked off to his bedroom to turn in for the night.

“Love you!” She called out, as soon as he had left the room.

“Love you too,” He said, poking his head out the doorway of his room, before disappearing again.

Laura and Carmilla sat in silence like usual. This time, it was comfortable and reflective, rather than complicated.

“Do you really have to go?” Laura whispered delicately.

“Afraid so,” Carmilla admitted. Laura nodded and stood up, weaving around Carmilla and the couch to head down the hall.

She didn’t want Carmilla to see how upset she had become. It was a childish reaction, to be so sad, almost to the point of begging for the woman to stay just a little bit longer or even the whole night.

Her presence in Laura’s life hadn’t started out as much but had evolved into something strong. She wanted Carmilla around, whether she was doing mundane tasks or just relaxing on a lazy summer afternoon. It was different hanging out in the van were reality and time felt suspended. Inviting her over felt like a new step; this was her reality and now Carmilla was a part of it. Her frown grew as her mind spiralled deeper into a hole, ripping out clothes from the dryer.

She had also forgotten the effort it would take to separate their clothes once the washing had been done. She couldn’t tell what pieces were hers and which were Carmilla, so she grabbed a pile, rushing back out into the living room.

“Here,” she said, thrusting the pile straight into Carmilla’s unsuspecting arms. She stumbled at the force of the clothes coming in contact with her body. Once she steadied herself, she analyzed at Laura with scrutiny.

“Are you okay?” Carmilla asked, concern leaking through her tone despite the weird look she was giving her..

“Yes, I’m fine. Never been better,” Laura replied shortly. She rocked back and forth on her heels, hands balled into fists at her sides.

Carmilla’s reaction was skeptical but she accepted the answer. She started toward the door and Laura followed at her heels. The cool night breeze hit Laura as soon as she opened the door and it was sobering.

She was reacting so silly in response to something so miniscule. She would see Carmilla again, she could meet with her in a few hours if she wanted. Unfortunately, she had been doing all of her thinking as Carmilla stood next to her, confused as to what was wrong.

“I’ll see you later, Laura.”

“Carm, wait,” She spoke a little too loudly but she was feeling urgent and didn’t want Carmilla to get the wrong idea.

“I’m sorry, I’m just… tired.” It wasn’t a complete lie, she was tired. The corners of Carmilla’s mouth tugged up for a moment.

“Get some rest,” she said, heading down the steps of her porch.

Laura made a noise of discontent, reaching out to grab hold of the crook of her arm. Carmilla turned at the interruption, staring back.

“I...” She didn’t finish her sentence, surging forward to envelope the other woman in a warm hug. It was awkward because Carmilla couldn’t reciprocate with all the clothes in her hands but it didn’t matter to Laura.

She backed away, a blush covering her cheeks. Carmilla didn’t even have time to respond as Laura said a quick goodbye and went back inside the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out riley's art for this chapter!! (it's amazing yall)
> 
> http://ghostbinch.tumblr.com/post/165381578864/cupcake-carmilla-exclaimed-so-glad-you-could


	5. Laura's Great Escape

Carmilla had been acting strange since she had come over a few weeks ago.

They still hung out in their normal frequency but she was more reserved, and denied invitations to hang out at her house again. Laura thought their friendship had been set on a course, only going forward but it felt a bit as if they were back at square one.

As she laid down in bed, tossing and turning, she ran the event in her mind over and over to find any instance where something could have gone wrong. Maybe it had been too much, too soon.

Carmilla didn’t seem like the type to be upfront about all her feelings, but she was more closed off than ever. Why was she holding back now? Had the hug scared her off? Was it their limited cuddling when they had fallen asleep on the couch together? Laura was sure the woman had been passed out during the whole ordeal but maybe she was ignoring it because neither of them had mentioned it- Laura couldn't stop thinking about the possibilities.

The restlessness continued throughout the night but at some point, she must have fallen asleep because a knocking sound had woken her. She laid there, savoring relaxation, feeling her weight sink into the bed before she pried her eyelids open. The clock read 5 am, the sun not yet risen. The knocking had paused, then started the same tapping pattern.

Laura kicked off her blankets, throwing her legs off the side of the bed. As she stood, she wrapped her arms around herself. It was a bit chilly because she had left the overhead fan on all night. She approached the window cautiously, peeking through her shutters to come face to face with the smirk that haunted her every moment of her existence.

She shoved the curtains away fully and opened the window in a slow struggle of glass sliding against frame. Her window was known to creak several times between opening and closing which would wake Sherman Hollis.

“It’s 5 am,” Laura deadpanned, to which Carmilla shrugged. “What do you want?”

“I have an idea.”

“Usually, yours are good but I have a feeling it’s not,” Laura said, eyes narrowed.

“I thought maybe we could… I don’t know... go somewhere. Out of town.” Carmilla looked meek in the twilight, opening herself up to rejection.

Laura’s eyes widened and lit up with a spark that wasn’t usually there, at least when Carmilla wasn’t around. They shone brighter at the prospect of an adventure, filled with exciting unknowns, alongside someone she wouldn’t oppose calling a friend-adjacent. Almost.

“You mean like a road trip?” Laura asked, her excitement uncontrollable.  
Carmilla nodded. A smile was forming on her face due to Laura’s reaction and it was too early for her to hide it. Laura smiled back and they held eye contact, looking like a couple of sleep deprived fools.

“But my dad…” Laura looked back into her room, as if even musing was enough to wake him from his usual deep but alert slumber and scold her right on the spot for such a reckless plan.

Carmilla was quick to respond, “Leave him a note.”

“What about food? Clothes?” Laura racked her brain, trying to find any excuse why this wouldn’t work out.

“I have plenty of food, you can pack a bag.”

“How about-”

“Laura,” Carmilla interrupted with a soft chuckle, “I’ve got enough supplies to last us both a few weeks and I have clothes that will fit. I know all the good stops and I have a map. Everything will be fine. That is, if you want to go.”

“Of course I do!” Laura said, haste evident in her voice. Carmilla smirked and nodded, shooing her off.

“I’ll be out soon!” Laura shut the window with a gentle click and sprung into action.

She picked up the first spare bag she found in her closet, throwing on whatever clean clothes she saw first, making sure that underwear was part of her ensemble. She slipped on her jeans shorts from yesterday and a clean, gray tank top.

Hoisting the bag over her shoulder, she rushed out of her room, barefoot and phone in hand, down the hall and to the living room.

There was notepad and pen on the table from the last game night she hosted with her father. She scribbled a brief note explaining the situation. She hoped her dad wouldn’t be too mad. It’s not like he could ground her, she was an adult.

Once she had signed her name, she ran to the door, grabbing her shoes and throwing a snapback lopsided on her head. She made sure to close the door slowly so it wouldn’t echo through the quiet of the morning.

By the time she had gotten herself ready, the sun was beginning to peek up over the horizon. Carmilla stood leaning against Billie in the driveway, sipping a to-go coffee from the local shop. She wore her usual white tank top and black shorts. What little light shone was reflecting off of Carmilla’s dark brown hair, revealing the tint of copper hidden in the strands. Laura couldn’t stop herself from admiring her from close range. Carmilla wouldn’t let her stare for so long without a teasing remark or her ego inflating another size or two.

“You done?” Carmilla said, letting her smirk breakthrough her facade.

Busted.

“Yeah,” Laura sighed out in a high pitched noise. Carmilla opened the passenger door for her, then slid into the front seat. She turned the keys that had been left resting in the ignition, Billie’s sputtering engine firing up.

“What a beautiful purr,” Carmilla remarked, revving the engine a few times. It wasn’t an impressive noise, more of a struggling wheeze but Carmilla seemed proud and Laura was too. This was Carmilla’s home. She had worked hard to make this dream a reality, which wasn’t something she could say she had done. Yet. Laura imagined it was a wonderful feeling.

Carmilla didn’t waste any more time, pulling out of the driveway and onto the empty Styrian streets. The gears changed and the engine fired, filling the silence between them as Carmilla weaved through the blocks. With each passing minute, they saw the little shops give way to untainted strips of road, devoid of most businesses and homes. There were only landscapes and a few shacks there. Just as they were reaching the final turn before the freeway, Laura spoke up.

“This is the farthest I’ve ever been in years,” Laura confessed. They were stopped at a traffic light, allowing Carmilla to glance over at Laura, taking in her profile.

“How do you feel?” She asked, her hands tightening and releasing their hold on the worn steering wheel.

“Excited,” She grinned unabashedly before her expression fell to a content smile, “I’m ready.”

“Good,” Carmilla smirked, “Because there is no stopping me once I’ve risen Billie from the dead.” Laura giggled at the comment as the light flicked to green and the van lurched to the right.

It was a little rocky gaining speed, due to the age and model of the car, something Carmilla was accustomed to. For Laura, who hadn’t been in large metal vehicle since the ripe age of three, it was more disconcerting.

“Carm?” The woman in question hummed, all her attention focused on driving.

“Is the car supposed to sound like that?” Carmilla had successfully merged with the freeway, which was almost as bare as the roads in town. However, they still had some miles to go before she would reach the required speed limit.

“Yes, cupcake.”

“And we’re safe?” At this point, Laura was holding the door handle for dear life. She felt like she might be sick from a combination of nerves, excitement, and the sliver of danger mixed in. Carmilla huffed but nodded for Laura’s sake.

“Promise?” She stuck her pinky out comically across the interior space, her body still flush with the door.

“You’re a child. Only children pinky swear.”

“Just do it, please,” Laura whined, wiggling the finger.

“If I had an available pinky, I would swear on it,” she said but Laura wasn’t convinced.

“Relax, you’re too uptight,” Carmilla continued, “I wouldn’t put you in any purposeful danger. I travel in this hunk of extraordinary junk, I know how she works.”

“Fair enough.” She tucked her pinky back into the her hand, bringing it back to hang tense beside her body with the rest of her limbs.

“It won’t be so bad once we reach a constant speed, which should be right about...” Carmilla strained her eyes to read the speedometer through a thin layer of scratched and tinted plastic, “Now.”

Laura breathed out in a loud whoosh. She didn’t release the handle but loosened her grip, slumping back in her seat.

“You still owe me a pinky.” Carmilla just rolled her eyes, leaning over to pop open the glove compartment hidden in front of Laura’s seat.

“Fuck, please just focus on driving,” Laura begged through gritted teeth as she watched Carmilla control the vehicle with one hand and rifle through the drawer with another.

“I am,” Carmilla grumbled, searching for a few more second before retrieving a large crumbled piece of paper. She used her knees to steer as she smoothed out the paper on the wheel.

“What is that?” Anxiety momentarily forgotten, Laura curiously leaned over to see what exactly Carmilla was so adamant to find.

“You’ve never seen a map before?” Carmilla drawled sarcastically.

“Of course, I have!” Laura defended, “Just never thought I’d see one this day and age, what with GPS and all.”

“I don’t have a GPS,” Carmilla said, scanning the map intermittently.

“How about a phone?”

“No phone.”

“No phone?!” Laura gasped.

“Too expensive, never really needed one,” Carmilla shrugged.

“What happens when you’re caught in a dangerous situation, what will you do?” Laura crossed her arms, giving her a disapproving look.

“I won’t be caught like that in the first place,” Carmilla said with a wink. Laura sighed, already reaching her daily capacity to deal with Carmilla’s cockiness.

“Give me that,” she roughly snatched the map from Carmilla. “I’ll do the navigating so you don’t crash and kill us both.”

-

After the initial stress of adjusting to the motions associated with cars, and navigating for Carmilla, the ride was actually an enjoyable experience. She didn’t particularly like the thought of a glorified junk yard speeding across asphalt at an unstoppable pace but the scenery was fabulous.

Laura had seen landscapes like this in the movies or picture books, but never the real thing. There were multiple learning sections during her high school education featuring different biomes and geographies of the United States. Some of them, namely lush forests and snowy plains of land were Laura’s favorites to look at. She loved the way they made her feel, even in the confines of her sandy, rustic town: Calm. It might not compare to what the genuine feeling, standing there in person, but it was good enough.

There was something so simple and pure about nature. No expectations, obligations, people. Just yourself and your thoughts. Despite her thoughts being… less than ideal at times, it sounded life-changing, refreshing. She hadn’t expected an experience like that so soon.

The farther they got away from Styria, the greener it became. During the first leg of the trip, there were miles of grass plains that seemed to go on forever. Ahead of them, she could see the mountain range and a forest starting around the base and extending up toward the highest peaks. It was surreal, being so close to something so beautiful. There had only been one other time when she felt that way.

“Where are we going?” Laura asked, not bothering to tear her eyes away from the nature blurring by outside her window, the map still laid in her lap. Carmilla did the same, her gaze firmly set on the road in front of her but for an entirely different reason.

When Laura didn’t receive an answer, she reluctantly shifted toward Carmilla and repeated the question.

“Not telling.” Her tone was short, secretive, and very infuriating for the ever curious brunette in the passenger seat.

“You can’t leave a girl hanging like this! I need substance, just a little teaser,” Laura pleaded.

“Oh, I can give you a little teaser-”

“Now isn’t the time,” Laura tried her best to remain harsh but choked on the words.

“You’re not wrong. Theoretically, I can’t give you a preview while I’m driving but I could pull over. There’s enough room in the back.”

It was too late. Laura had no time to prepare herself. Carmilla was so unpredictable that she usually had to keep her guard up almost all the time but she should have been ready. Now, the images of Carmilla doing exactly what she had described were playing out in her head. Frankly, it was too much.

She had gone as far as… considering… what it would be like to kiss Carmilla. Her lips looked incredibly soft from her spot a reasonable distance away; they were never chapped despite the humid weather. And maybe she had also questioned what the texture of her hair would feel like as it slid through her fingers. It was curly and an overall mess but upon closer examination (which Laura hadn’t done. Definitely not during any of those times Carmilla had broken her personal space bubble) it seemed as though it would be thick but pliant, not like a plush pillow but a stringy blanket. Laura wasn’t good at analogies but you get the point.

So yes, Laura had imagined doing a few things not-so-platonically with Carmilla but in a casual, meaningless way. It’s not like she actually wanted to date Carmilla or had mushy, romantic feelings for her. She was just more than aware of her aesthetically pleasing appearance and projected her gayness and desire for love onto her. She hadn’t gotten deep enough into her attraction or mind to enter the territory of sexual nature. It wasn’t bad, just not appropriate considering she was sitting right next to her within touching range.

She was utterly screwed and completely transparent. She could tell by the annoyingly seductive look on Carmilla’s face that she knew what was going through her own mind right now.

Laura jerked as Carmilla unexpectedly burst out into laughter.

“I’m kidding,” Carmilla said between dying chuckles, “Where’s your sense of humor, Hollis?”

“Must have left it at home,” Laura grumbled, turning to the window again, her head propped up against her fist. She took several deep breathes, trying to push down the redness coating her neck and cheeks. Carmilla took this time to wipe away her tears and calm down as well.

“You’re observant, sweetheart. You’ll figure it out.” Carmilla winked, referencing her previous question about destinations. Laura decided for the rest of the trip, she wouldn’t look at her. No matter how long they had left.

-

She broke her resolution to avoid Carmilla in less than a half an hour. Almost as soon as she had begun, Carmilla had discovered her plan and taunted her into speaking, timing to how long Laura could last in this charade.

It worked, simply because she was tired of staring at the scenery that had once fascinated her. Being on the other end of an endless rant was starting to grate on the patience she had built up to combat Carmilla’s comments. However, Laura was able to shut Carmilla up by threatening to coerce her into a game of I-Spy, which wouldn’t be pleasant for either of them.

They had separated once more, Carmilla lost in her own head and Laura shifting uncomfortably every couple of second. She couldn’t help fidgeting, it had been an hour or two since they had left town with no stops. Laura’s body wasn’t meant to be cramped in a small space with no room to move. With nothing to do and consequently no distractions, the stiffness of her back and the numbness of her butt were exacerbated.

“If you don’t stop moving, I swear to god, I will rig an ejection mechanism under your seat so I can launch you the fuck out of here,” Carmilla sighed, one hand leaving the wheel so her fingers could pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it! We’ve been driving for so long. It’s starting to get painful and boring.” Laura pouted.

“Welcome to my life.”

“You’re no help.” Laura crossed her arms, playing deeper into her attitude.

“I suppose you’re right,” Carmilla sighed, stretching in her own seat. “I could use a break and some food.” Laura let out a noise of gratitude, eager to walk around somewhere she had literally never set foot in.

When Carmilla slowed the van to a stop several miles later on a designated rest area, they were still in the middle of nowhere. Laura had expected a quaint gas station with a handful of people milling about, waiting to start again on their journey to whatever destination was in their plan. Instead, she was greeted with a small gravel area, deviating from the road. It was surrounded by steel railing, separating her from the field of grass that she had been staring at for the past two hours. Regardless, she felt giddy.

“You coming?” Carmilla hadn’t budged from her spot, reclining back in her chair. She waved Laura on, muttering that she would catch up with her later. Laura hesitated for a moment, dropping her hat into the space where her feet were and all but falling out of the vehicle with the force she used to throw open the door.

She took a big breath, savoring the smell of untouched, overgrown grass and unpolluted air. The breeze on her skin was different than back home. There was a distinct lack of warmth and salt, being replaced by a cool brush of crispness. Laura couldn’t decide which was her favorite so far, she enjoyed both equally.

She remembered her stiff limbs and decided to walk around and explore. She shuffled up to the railing, which came up halfway to her thighs. They were grey, weather worn, hadn’t been renovated in years.

She could hear her dad’s voice in the back of her head, begging her not to climb or ever cross the clear boundaries being put in place. But her actual dad wasn’t here in the flesh to reprimand or physically restrain her, and the broody woman back in the car, squeezing in a power nap would likely provide encouragement if she knew the decision at hand.

She took a chance, placing her hands on the metal and hoisting herself up. Once she had thrown both legs over and reclaimed her center of gravity, she sat and swung her legs off the edge. _This is fun_ , she thought, _but it would be more fun to run._ With the thought ringing in her mind and her usual protectors out of place, she hopped off her perch and went right on.

Laura ran, occasionally spinning, as she made her way out into the open. The unkempt grass tickled her legs with every stride, the air whipping her golden hair in furrows behind her, noises of happiness leaking from her mouth on their own volition. Her arms were flailing and her lungs were heaving but it was everything she had hoped for just moments ago in her contemplation.

Unabashed, inexorable joy.

She felt like she was a young child again, roaming the land with her friends in search of treasure or berries that could be ingredients for their “wizard potions”.

However, just because she felt like a kid, didn’t mean she was one again. Her body was feeling the effects of growing old. Or it could be the fact that she hadn’t exercised like this since high school. Sure, she rode her bike around town, but it wasn’t hard work.

Exhausted, she slowly made her way to the ground so she could lie down, her tiny body disappeared in the shrubbery. She faced toward the sky and watched the clouds float as she caught her breath.

She had lost track of time, following the clouds and soaking up the dispersed rays of sunlight. It must have been a good portion of time because Carmilla came looking for her.

“Cupcake,” Carmilla said, leaning over into her line of eyesight, “What are you doing?”

“Frolicking.” Laura had found absolute peace. When she shrugged, the grass beneath her swished.

“You should come down here. The world looks different from the ground.”

Carmilla's expression warped into a confused grimace but obliged, laying down next to her.

“It’s like stargazing,” Laura offered in explanation.

“I don’t see what you see,” Carmilla sighed, searching for a sign in the vast ocean above that could hold the significance she was describing.

“You know, I’ve never actually left Styria before.”

“Never?” Carmilla asked with a hint of surprise. Laura shook her head.

“My dad was set on the fact that we never needed to leave, not when everything we could need was right there.” Laura tried to mask the wistful tone in her voice but it was too strong to hide.

“When I was young, I would read about different countries and their landscapes in school. I was so hopeful, daydreaming that I would go there one day. Dad wouldn’t let me, of course. He said it was too dangerous. We didn’t even have a car or money to afford traveling.”

Laura was grateful, that for once, Carmilla didn’t joke with her. She appreciated Carmilla’s humor but this subject was incredibly close to her heart. She hadn’t told anyone about her desire to leave their little town and discover what else the world had to offer.

“The beach definitely helped me cope. It’s beautiful, but I wanted more. I considered running away once.” Carmilla chuckled. Laura’s head whipped in her direction, mouth hanging open.

“Shut up!” she said, pushing her shoulder, “It was serious!”

“I know, but you wouldn’t have done it,” Carmilla said with a smile.

“Yeah,” Laura sighed, “I love my dad way too much.” She covered her face with her hands, laughing at her past self’s nativity. The conversation ended there, both women settling into a lull.

“Clouds are like the stars of the daytime, is what I mean,” Laura suddenly said, bringing up her point from earlier.

“I think that’s what the sun is,” Carmilla countered.

“No, hear me out,” Laura said, gearing up for a solid debate. “They’re always there, you just can’t see them. They’re pretty far away, untouchable. They can disappear and reform whenever. Both apply for clouds and stars.” Laura was satisfied with herself. She’d presented her argument with a structurally sound foundation and sufficient evidence.

“As foolish as this is, clouds don’t produce light as stars do,” Carmilla replied without skipping a beat, “And they are made of water, not gas.”

“Water has particles in it, which can result in gas!”

“Only under specific conditions.” The breeze picked up, the rustling of the landscape filling their ears.

“Just admit that I’m right,” Laura huffed.

“Why are we even arguing this?” Carmilla sighed, crossing her arms behind her head.

“Because _some_ people seem to favor stars over clouds.” Laura watched as Carmilla dramatically rested her sunglasses upon her head.

“That’s quite an accusing tone you’ve got there,” Carmilla peeked over at Laura, who was staring at the sky like a petulant child who had just been denied another cookie for dessert.

“Could you be harboring unresolved feelings, Hollis?” Carmilla mocked with a gasp, “We should braid each other’s hair and share the deep, dark secrets we’ve been holding in for ages.”

“Has anybody ever told you,” Laura said, shifting to her side, “That you’re a gigantic asshole?” Carmilla rolled over to mirror Laura’s position.

“You have, multiple times, in fact.” Carmilla’s smile was twinged with salaciousness, her canines appearing to flash as the cloud parted to bathe them in direct sunlight. Carmilla’s gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth and back again. Laura gulped.

“I’m beginning to doubt your acclaimed level of vocabulary. Wouldn’t kill you to throw out a few extravagant insults every once and awhile.”

“That’s not fair,” Laura protested in embarrassment. “Not all of us are quick-witted souls.”

“I don’t have a soul.” Carmilla replaced her sunglasses on her face, looking at the sky once more.

“Because you’re vampire, right?” Laura grinned.

“How’d you know?” Carmilla replied flatly.

“Perfect skin, timelessly beautiful, odd sleeping schedule, allergic to the sun-”

“Stop.”

“I could keep going,” Laura taunted.

“You’d be a great journalist, spreading debatable facts without proper evidence.”

“You haven’t denied my claims it thus far.” It was Laura’s turn to smirk, the roles reversed from their usual expressions.

“Because it would compromise my standings with the vampiric cult master,” Carmilla said.

“Oh sorry, my bad.” Laura broke character, laughs bursting from her throat as Carmilla smiled at her antics.

Laura rolled over again, but instead of picking out different shapes of whites, she was relaying the conversation that had just happened and others from the past she’d had with Carmilla.

This type of banter was new for them. Their first interactions had started off as something harsh, brimming with sarcasm and dislike. Over time, they evolved into something else. Most of their words were light with a good intent, rather than to scathe and deter one another. The teasing had seemed like a defense, a warning that Laura should keep her distance.

Now, the jabs Carmilla threw at her were an indication of how much she might care for her. Laura assumed it meant she was comfortable being around her. Sure, she had over-sharing tendencies that pop up in every relationship but this time, it felt under control. She actively wanted to talk to her and share what was on her mind, and genuinely wanted to hear what Carmilla was thinking about.

“A quiet Laura means something dangerous is brewing,” Carmilla commented when the silence hadn’t been filled.

“Just thinking, is all.” Laura could stay in this place, with Carmilla by her side, for eternity and wouldn’t have a single issue with it.

“That’s never good,” Carmilla sat up, checking the time on her analog watch, “You hungry?”

“Yeah, but I’d like to lay here for a little longer, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she nodded, falling back down beside the content brunette.

-

After relaxing for a handful of minutes, the two women returned to the van and had a quick lunch. Carmilla cooked them ramen and pulled some saltine crackers out of god knows where in her storage. It wasn’t too bad by Laura’s standards and soon, they were on the road again.

Laura was coming down from her high in the fields, the adrenaline leaving her body, feelings of serenity taking its place. Combined with the early start at the beginning of the day and the filling meal they had just consumed, she couldn’t fight the sleep creeping up on her.

She decided to rest her head, just for a moment. There was light music in the background, encouraging her to doze off. The sun was illuminating the dashboard through the windshield in a direct path, warming Laura in the cool atmosphere of the vehicle. The sound of the tires turning steadily on the highway lulled her into a dreamless sleep.

The first thing she noticed when she woke was that they were tilted at an incline. She opened her eyes immediately, whipping her head back and forth to figure out what was going on. Once the sleep induced haze had worn off, she could determine they were on a road that twisted and turned into the unknown horizon.

The road had two lanes, each going in opposite directions. It was positioned on a ledge and beyond the railing was an expanse of trees that stuck out of every possible surface. Laura couldn’t pinpoint their location or any sort of flat ground. There was a combination of steep hills and cliffside composed of a variety of rocks and soils. Clouds reached the tips of these formations, wrapping around the peaks in thin strips.

It was unlike anything Laura had seen.

“Ah, she wakes,” Carmilla interrupted.

“Sorry,” Laura said sheepishly, patting down her inevitably tangled post-nap hair. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Carmilla waved her off with a noise of acknowledgement, unbothered.

“Where are we?” Laura asked, watching in awe as the van kept rising from the ground with each mile they traveled.

“The mountains,” Carmilla said.

“I think you’re right,” Laura breathed out after a brief pause, “I’ve lost my vocabulary. There’s no way I can properly explain how this view looks right now.”

Carmilla hummed in response, looking as though she had something important to add. Laura waited but she said nothing other than a confirmation that they would arrive at their destination shortly, so she let it go and enjoyed the rest of the ride.

The farther up the mountain, the more civilization Laura began to see. The main part of town was where the action stemmed from. They passed numerous cabins and lodges with people going about their life as if it was normal for them to be in the middle of such beauty. Shops lined the thin roads, decorated with homemade signs and occasional statue of a bear (which reminded Laura that she had left her bear spray behind. It would be alright… probably). Despite all the architecture, the forest around them was thriving with life. The citizens had done nothing to cause harm to the ecosystem around them, putting in the effort to preserve it. Even the architecture had been built upon the inclines of the mountain with thick patches of trees, planted for the loss of space. Laura began to tear up a bit, it reminded her of Styria.

As Carmilla drove through the town, Laura worried that they weren’t going to stop and carry right on with their trip. As much as she would love to go pretty much anywhere, now that she had a taste of this town, she wasn’t ready to continue on without a moderate excursion.

The gods must have heard her inner plea because Carmilla pulled into a parking lot settled at the edge of town, cutting the ignition the moment the vehicle was in an empty parking lane. She kicked the door open, getting out and letting the fresh mountain air filter in through the space left ajar.

Laura watched, mouth agape as Carmilla removed her leather jacket. Her biceps were now exposed, the sleeves of her shirt having ridden up. She stretched her arms above her head and elicited a suggestive sounding moan with the cracking of her bones. The temperature inside the van was cool but Laura felt hot.

“Welcome to Mount Lustig,” Carmilla said, bending back inside Billie to greet her with a smirk and a wink.

Laura shook herself out of the trance she was in, feeling the effect of having slept in a cramped position. She exited her seat and basking in the crisp air. She stood there, taking in the dense forest in front of her while Carmilla fiddled in the trunk, sorting through items to find something.

There was so much to see that Laura’s attention was pulled in multiple directions and it was hard for her to know what was going on with the other woman. There were birds chirping, hidden in the rustling leaves and bugs buzzing, chipmunks and squirrels wrestling for nuts. It was all so fascinating, just like the books had described. Laura hadn’t noticed Carmilla standing next to her, staring just as intently into the vast wilderness ahead of them.

“The world is cold, harsh, unforgiving on it’s best days but nature is the one place I’ve found to be distracting from all that.” Carmilla whispered, the words fragile in between them.

“There’s an alcove back home,” Laura confessed. Carmilla nodded, as she understood the implications of her confession.

“Here feels different. Different, but good.” Laura smiled brightly, remembering the day had only just begun and that there was still a whole realm of possibilities.

“You want to go out there?” Carmilla asked, bumping her shoulder against Laura’s. She noticed Carmilla had retrieved a backpack, which was now slung over the opposite shoulder, her sunglasses hanging from the neck hole of her tanktop.

Laura’s smile widened, her head bobbing with excitement. That was all the confirmation Carmilla needed as she started forward to break through the treeline. She lead them through the woods and onto a dirt path so they wouldn’t get lost, though Carmilla assured Laura she was more than qualified to find her own way.

They ended up deviating from the path often upon Laura’s request to stop and examine specific areas in need of further exploration, like the grove of scraggly looking trees, a line of oddly-colored stones, or the occasional lizard or furry animal. She didn’t want to miss any details and practically begged Carmilla to slow down each time they picked on their trail again.

They walked for a mile or so at a leisurely and unsteady pace, surrounded by nothing but tall birch and maple trees. Halfway through the hike, they ran into a stream, which Laura trailed with animated steps, aiming to discover a marvel of nature. A few meters in, the water expanded and formed into a small river with a gentle current that weaved between the rocks, having been strong enough to carve into the earth. Eventually, it dropped into a pond that rested just below an overhanging rock, stuck out of the mountainside. Laura stopped at the edge, crouching down to run her hands through the water.

“Oh!” Laura squealed in delight, “It feels so nice!” She stood up, palms upward and stretch in front of her, crystal water cascading down her fingers like falling diamonds.

“Unusual for this time of year,” Carmilla observed, walking over to test the temperature herself.

“Maybe it’s a sign,” Laura shrugged with a smile, shaking her hands to rid them of excess droplets, “Good vibes and all that.”

“I don’t think Mother Nature buys into all that hippy bullshit,” Carmilla scoffed.

“Have some faith, Carm.” Laura reached up to pat Carmilla’s cheek. This would have been a heartwarming gesture, if her hands weren’t wet. She _had_ dried them, but not completely. Carmilla tried to bat them away but Laura caressed her with a unyielding grip. Carmilla’s face morphed into it’s grumpy state the longer Laura held on.

“I’m a heathen,” Carmilla grumbled. “Please keep your hands to yourself.”

When Laura refused, she ducked down out of her grip, gathering a pinch of wet dirt between her pointer and middle fingers. Before Laura could stop her, she smudged the soil across her forehead in a horizontal line just above her eyebrows. Laura frowned, eyes crossing in an attempt to see what Carmilla had “decorated” her face with.

“If you’re gonna play dirty, so am I,” Carmilla smirked, satisfied with the retaliation.

“Surprised you didn’t go for the innuendo there,” Laura said, wiping the mark off with the end of her shirt.

“I am beyond capable of sophistication.” Carmilla took this time to wipe at her own cheeks, which were still damp from Laura’s initial attack. She was usually the one to appear child-like, but this time, it was Carmilla. Her posture was more relaxed, despite the imminent danger of playfulness. Her face was calm, devoid of that troubled look that seemed to be a constant struggle beneath her expressions at all times. What caught Laura’s attention most was her eyes, which shined brighter than she’d ever seen. She looked alive. Maybe it was her imagination or trick of the light but Laura hoped the reason was deeper and more meaningful than that.

Laura was about to argue her claim with a fair choice of words and fond eye rolling, but she caught sight of a skittering animal on the other side of the water.

“I swear, that fox had more than one tail,” Laura exclaimed, instinctively reaching for Carmilla’s hand, “Let’s catch up to it!”

The fox fiasco ended up being a chase. Laura was determined to catch another glimpse and Carmilla was far too adoring of Laura to tell her no. They ran after the poor thing, dashing through piles of leaves, dodging logs and protruding branches, deeper into the wilderness. They had almost trapped it between a rock and log when it dove straight into a hole, it’s den, disappearing for good. She had wanted to wait around because _there’s a possibility it could come out, Carm!_ But Carmilla was able to convince her it was irrational and that they had likely scared it too much to have any healthy interactions with it. Defeated, Carmilla lead them back to the path using her compass and extensive survival knowledge.

They continued on the trail, stopping when they reached a quaint little gazebo in the center of it all. The roof was tiled with brick red panels and the structure was a dull cyan color, having been exposed to the elements. Fallen leaves were scattered around the octagonal resting area, the wood paneling floor scuffed and corners sticking up, leaving the surface uneven. Benches lined several of the railings on each side with plants struggling to grow up their legs. It was more than just a resting spot. There was something special about it that made Laura want to engrain this specific place in her memories.

“Thank god,” Laura groaned as she tried to massage the pain dispersed throughout her calves. “My legs are starting to kill me.”

She managed to throw herself up the steps that creaked precariously under her weight and launched herself on the first available bench. Both the trail and the gazebo were deserted, so there wasn’t a lot of competition fighting for a space to rest. Laura chucked off her shoes, ignoring Carmilla’s warnings that she would get splinters and her “I don’t want to have to carry you to Billie because you can’t walk anymore” rant. She was more content with her feet’s freedom and a grumpy Carmilla calling her out.

She debated taking her shirt off but she didn’t want to give Carmilla the opportunity to check her out… not that she would want to check her out. That would be absurd. Carmilla was not interested in her but knew Laura knew she was attractive, throwing out those explicit innuendos and the teasing remarks, using it against her as leverage. Her gay ass could only handle so much before she started to do something stupid, like fall in love or ask her out on a date, which they had definitely not gone on. They were friends and they hung out as friends do, nothing more. No romantic feelings or gestures there.

Anyway.

Laura laid down, suspecting that the material of the bench would likely induce a few knots into her back. She didn’t care, anything to relieve the stress upon her screaming ankles. Carmilla, on the other hand, was acting as if this hike was a cakewalk and not some extensive exertion of energy. She looked just as attractive, maybe even more so. The woman had barely broken a sweat, whereas Laura felt like her whole body had been dunked into the ocean and thrown to shore without a chance to dry herself. She wasn’t breathing heavily like Laura was and didn’t look bothered by anything this experience had forced them to do.

She lounged across from Laura on the wood floor, back propped up against one of the pillars, her legs extended in front of her. Her head was back and her eyes closed, that same peaceful expression cloaking her features.

“How are you not dying right now?” Laura asked, slightly irritated at her composure.

“I do this all the time,” Carmilla smiled, but it was smug. “I live an active lifestyle.”

“I’m not sure anything could prepare a person for this,” Laura heaved, thoroughly exhausted. “What do you do?”

“Hiking, jogging, dancing, sex when I can.”

Laura inhaled, choking on her own spit. She sat up to aid her aching lungs in their attempt to rid the intruding saliva.

“Excuse me!” Laura wheezed between coughs.

“You heard me, I _swim_ ,” Carmilla said, drawing out each syllable in languid speech.

“That is _so_ not what you said,” Laura accused, clearing her throat. Carmilla passed her a water bottle and she accepted it, grateful. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she had become until the bottle was in her hands. She pried it open with shaking fingers, drinking a few huge gulps, almost choking again.

“Do you exercise at all?” Carmilla asked, amused.

“Yes! I…” Laura hesitated for a moment, formulating an extension of the truth to tell. “I walk everywhere because my town is so small. Sometimes, I bike. That’s about it.” Noticing her defeated look, Carmilla was quick to remedy her feelings of inadequacy.

“It’s fine, cupcake, I was just wondering,” Carmilla said with a chuckle. “Considering the fact that you eat sweets with almost every meal, I’m not surprised by your reaction.”

“Blame my dad,” Laura pouted, rolling the bottle between her palms, gaze cast downward in shame. “He’s the one who passed the sweet tooth gene.”

“Besides,” Laura continued, “Working out isn’t fun.”

“It can be,” Carmilla offered and Laura scoffed.

“Convince me otherwise,” Laura said to provoke Carmilla, to challenge her into proving her wrong.

Carmilla shrugged, hoisting herself to a standing position in the middle of gazebo. She rolled her shoulders, prepping her limbs for a series of motions. After several seconds of stillness, Laura watched as Carmilla broke out into improv dance, moving in graceful strides to music that wasn’t audible to her. Carmilla moves were fluid and quick, yet had an undertone of goofiness to it. Her arms and legs jerked in unison, jumping in time with an eight count beat.

Laura could tell the entire ensemble was a joke but remained as serious as possible to encourage Carmilla’s act. It was out of character from her usual nature but Laura was starting to learn that the other woman loved to throw people for a loop. Laura had expected a melodramatic, intense piece but what she got was the opposite. She never expected to see a broody, intimidating woman like Carmilla doing the modified sprinkler.

The performance carried on for a few more seconds, filled with a sequences of unique moves before she stopped with an abrupt toe-tap. She took a bow and Laura was overcome with a mixture of pride for Carmilla and laughter, so she embraced both. She tried her best to clap but gave in to her laughs, bending over and slapping her knee. Carmilla was laughing too, unrestrained. They both reveled in the moment of silliness, usual for one of them and a cherished special occasion for the other.

“I would show you some of my own moves,” Laura gasped through another fit of giggling, “But I’m not sure I can top that!”

“Of course not,” Carmilla retorted, pointing to herself, “Choreographic genius.”

“Clearly,” Laura observed, her delighted smile refusing to die down. Carmilla caught her breath as Laura collected herself and took in the situation that just occurred. It was equal parts baffling and amusing.

“When you said dancing, I had anticipated something more classical,” Laura laughed. Carmilla huffed like she had heard that statement once too many times and wiped the sweat beading just underneath her hairline.

“I’m multifaceted,” Carmilla said, acting as if she was about to sit down again but Laura brought her back up with an eager tug, urging her to elaborate.

“Mother forced me into lessons when I was young,” Carmilla sighed, picking at her nails. There were mismatched flecks of black scattered over her nails, suggesting that it had been a long time since they had been painted or that she had nervously chipped the polish away. “She thought it would be useful in the future when I inevitably courted rich suitors. But that never happened, to her chagrin.”

Laura shifted foot to foot, contemplating if she should ask the question burning hot in the back of her mind, poking and prodding her into taking a chance.

“Do you remember how?” Laura said, her words drawn out, stilled and slow as to not scare the other woman.

“Why, Miss Hollis,” Carmilla asked in a faux voice, similar to a high class white woman who believed she was superior, opulent and demanding, “Are you inquiring my hand for a dance?”

“Yes,” Laura blushed, “Well, not exactly. I don’t know all the fancy steps and can’t really keep rhythm like you can because, wow, can you move! But I’m… inviting you to teach me?” Laura trailed off with a shrug, unsure if the idea was imbecilic to suggest.

Carmilla nodded, shaking out her limbs. She seemed to transform back into the serious persona she showed to the world, except it wasn’t fueled with anger. She offered Laura her hand, outstretched and accepting her invitation in a nonverbal connection.

Laura’s heart was beating so fast, she thought it would take flight and leave her chest. She felt paralyzed at the prospect of dancing with Carmilla, with being so close to her, moving together in synchronized steps. She hadn’t thought through what would happen if Carmilla did indeed want to teach her. It felt like forever, but in real time, her pause was nothing but a nervous hesitation.

She took her hand in return, gasping when Carmilla tugged her closer.

Their proximity to one another made Laura’s nerves increase from fifty to one hundred and ten on a hundred point scale. She forced herself to take deep breaths as she looked into Carmilla’s soft brown eyes, their hands interlocked in a loose hold. Carmilla’s palm rested on the small of her back and her own was placed upon her shoulder.

She reminded herself that it was Carmilla and that there was nothing to be worried about. Despite the front she adopted in public, she was warm and patient with Laura. Of course she teased her but there was no malice in her words. She understood Laura and her not-so-conventional aspects.

She just couldn’t shake the feeling that this time, it was different. The inevitability that she would act foolish and embarrass herself in front of her intelligent, talented crush was at an all time high. She had done that before, more times than she wished, but there was more pressure now. Intimacy was never Laura’s strong suit. She didn’t want to wreck it with stupid words or a literal misstep with someone she cared about at an alarming level.

Laura was torn out of her thinking by the sound of Carmilla’s voice.

“The waltz is simple, I’ll talk you through it while we move,” Carmilla said. “Ready?”

Laura nodded, releasing a huge breath through her nose and pushing her fears down like surging energies to her feet. She gazed at Carmilla, whose gentle smile and kind aura sent a calming wave through her.

“Step back with your right foot.”

She mirrored Carmilla’s instruction, moving her right foot back behind her. Carmilla’s left foot came forward to stop in the place her foot had just been.

“Now, sidestep to your left,” Carmilla continued, leading Laura along. Again, she followed the instruction, her left foot sliding in tandem with Carmilla’s.

“And finally, move your left foot next to your right.”

“How did I do?” Laura asked when she completed the sequence, nerves resurfacing on the precipice of Carmilla’s judgement.

“You’re doing great,” Carmilla replied. She sounded honest and that gave Laura the confidence to continue. Laura let out a small noise of triumph, relieved that she hadn’t fucked up.

“Now, we repeat that but this time, you step forward with your right,” Carmilla said and Laura sighed again.

“Okay, I can do this,” Laura said under her breath, speaking to herself.

_Right foot forward, check. Left foot slide, check. Right foot together, check._

_Yes!_

Having done it without Carmilla talking her through the steps, her confidence was growing at an exponential rate; dancing was easier than she thought! Her eyes met Carmilla’s this time, abandoning her feet and trusting they would do the work for her, without special effort on her part.

All of a sudden, Carmilla winced. Laura’s head dropped down to look in between their bodies. There was minimal space between them but she could see her foot was smashing Carmilla’s.

“Shit, Carm,” Laura jerked, removing her foot and placing it in the correct position.

“You’re learning,” Carmilla chuckled, dismissing her frantic apologies, “I’ve had a fair share of smashed toes. And I’ve done the smashing, too.”

“Eyes down there.” Carmilla smirked at her own joke, finger gesturing to the ground.

Laura was disappointed that she had to watch their feet as Carmilla lead them into a groove once more, but she wasn’t about to take their closeness for granted. They were both drenched in a thin coating of sweat and exhausted from their hike but Laura was happy and she could feel that Carmilla was sharing the sentiment. Being able to touch her and share space with her was an experience all on it’s own. She felt flushed and her body buzzed in each spot that she was connected with the other woman. It was a new but welcomed feeling.

Her movements were somewhat stiff but Carmilla helped her become more fluid with each turn. Once Laura was able to focus and let herself dance, they did really well together in their waltzing endeavors. They spun around in the old gazebo in the middle of nowhere, the floor uneven, creaking with the pressure and the sounds of nature substituting as music. Carmilla twirled her around once for good measure, eliciting a giggle from Laura. In that moment, knowledge and innate rhythm had no meaning. Laura was content and Carmilla had found comfort.

Eventually, their waltzing dissipated and reformed into a gentle swaying motion, correlating with the rustling of the trees in the breeze. Their closeness never faltered as they morphed closer, leaning upon one another in an embrace.

She wished to remain here, dancing like this with Carmilla forever in this content state, but knew that wasn’t possible. If only in another life, they were immortal, where her wish would come true. A life where the sole struggle was keeping beat and not stepping on someone’s toes sounded more pleasurable than her current one.

The moment, the feeling were fleeting but the memory would be eternal.

And as Laura gave in and rested her head in the crook of her shoulder, Carmilla’s forehead on top of her head, she silenced her mind and allowed herself to revel in the present.

Because it wasn’t gone yet.

And she wouldn’t want to miss it.

-

The afternoon carried on as well as the previous hours.

Carmilla was able to convince Laura that they should hike the remainder of the trail and loop around to explore all the small mountain town had to offer. This agreement was successful thanks to the bribery of something sweet, paid for in full by Carmilla for Laura’s enjoyment. She accepted, yet insisted Carmilla give her a piggyback ride, still complaining about her aching legs. She denied the request until Laura had blown out her ears with more whining. Carmilla had heard enough and stopping with an abrupt crunch of gravel to bend down in front of Laura, growling as she climbed on. She did and Carmilla carried her back to civilization, Laura sparing her with the complaining.

Laura was determined to act the part of tourist, dragging a reluctant but defeated Carmilla to each one of the little self-owned shops. In the trinket store, she bought a snowglobe that depicted the mountain with white flakes inside, swirling like a snowstorm when she shook it.

Her favorite place, however, was the garden shop with its shelves and counters covered in a plethora of different species. Laura couldn’t get enough of the flora and their smell but Carmilla felt the exact opposite, sneezing several times in a row until they left the shop, empty handed.

Toward the end of their stroll through the streets, Carmilla purchased Laura some of the local chocolatier’s famous fudge. Laura finished the confection in record time, the corners of her mouth covered in smudges of chocolate.

After a quick restroom break, they started the long journey back to Styria. It was late afternoon now, the sun setting behind them as they drove, the vehicle's interior bathed in hues of red and orange. The windows were open, the breeze trapping itself in the cabin and whipping their hair in wild twists.

Laura was mesmerized as she watched Carmilla sing, a relaxed smile on her face. Her voice was loud and unrestrained, filling her ears with the rich tone of her voice. Laura didn’t know the lyrics or most of the songs Carmilla had on her mixtapes but hummed along in broken melodies.

Laura had learned several things about road trips during this experience with Carmilla, but the most important thing was that she didn’t want to go on another trip, unless it was with her.

-

Laura was still wide awake by the time Carmilla pulled into her driveway. She checked her phone, noticing it was almost 11 pm. The drive itself took a large portion of time but they had stopped to eat at a roadside diner, which put them a little off schedule.

Styria was deep in sleep, a darkness permeating the atmosphere like wet ink. The fog had taken its place and settled in for the long haul, forming a murky glow around the objects it touched. Lights were seldom present, the street lamps dull with age, the stars taking their job. Since they were miles away from the big cities, their shine was in bloom, dotting the sky like a kaleidoscope of sparkles.

There was a silence developing between the two the longer they sat there, Laura stock still in her seat and Carmilla staring at the steering wheel like there was a message stitched into its seams.

“Did you-”

“Carm, I-”

They both spoke at the same time, overlapping one another. Carmilla made eye contact with Laura and she swallowed thickly.

“You go first,” Carmilla offered, her lips pursed.

“I had an amazing time, Carmilla. More than amazing,” Laura shook her head, blush rising higher with the confession. “It was probably the best day I’ve had in so long.”

She met Carmilla’s lingering gaze, her heart threatening give out with each pounding beat.

“But,” She continued and Carmilla’s lip quivered bit, fearing the worst, “I don’t want it to end.”

Carmilla face was a mixture of awe and relief, a new smile stretching ear to ear. Laura reached across the gear shifts, taking Carmilla’s hand in her own. She sighed sweetly as she felt Carmilla interlock their fingers, similar to their waltzing earlier, and tightened her grip.

Without letting go, she used her unoccupied hand to reignite the engine. Billie didn’t stutter, rumbling to life in a smooth chorus.

“He won’t notice I’m gone until morning,” Laura said, reassuring her worries more than the one’s Carmilla might be harboring. She smirked, pleased at Laura’s small act of rebellion.

“So,” Carmilla drawled, “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” Laura smiled with a shrug. Carmilla rolled her eyes fondly, switching the gear and backing out into the night.

-

It seemed fitting that the place Carmilla took them was where it all began. The closest, most convenient and quiet, her world away from the world itself.

Carmilla had parked them on the beach in her usual spot. Her bed was laid out and made for them to lounge on. All the windows were bare, curtains drawn and panes cracked a few inches, just enough to aerate the van with sounds of the rocking ocean and constant breeze that traveled through the town. Most of the power was off, except for Carmilla’s favorite fake candles and the radio, which was serenading them with the tunes of an old mixtape from Carmilla’s time with her sister Mattie. The smooth sound of jazz and the slow beat of gentle rock songs caused Laura to feel nostalgic, transporting her to a place where these sounds might have been another version of herself’s past.

The two laid side by side, forearms brushing in the small bedroom, staring up at the ceiling that was decorated with artworks that Carmilla had created and more paper souvenirs from her adventures on the road. They talked for a while, sharing stories and relaxing through the night.

“No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop wondering about you,” Laura said. Carmilla gave her a curious look, to which she responded with a stuttering correction.

“I mean, your adventures. The places you’ve been.” Carmilla chuckled.

“You’ve got a thirst for adventure.” Laura was in disbelief, mouth bobbing up and down, searching for another response. It wasn’t her biggest secret, but it was her deepest wish and knowing that she was transparent enough for someone to find out without even asking, she felt exposed.

“How did you-”

“Oh, cupcake, it’s obvious.” Carmilla was blunt, stating that fact like it was the absolute truth.

“It sounds incredibly cliche but I could see it in your eyes and the way you acted when we were at the Lustig.”

Laura nodded. It was useless to try and deny something she had been fighting for so long. She’s not even sure why she held onto the act. Traveling, exploring, learning through the experience of independence and freedom felt so much better than being cooped up in the same town. Now that she got to taste what her life could be like, she couldn’t forget it.

“Laura,” Carmilla said, reaching over to take hold of her biceps between delicate, pale fingers. “It’s not a bad thing.”

“I know,” Laura agreed.

“You sure as hell don’t act like it,” Carmilla countered without hesitation.

“I’m his only daughter, Carmilla! He chose me,” her voice boomed, the cabin with reverberating emotions, “How can I not feel guilt, shame, for wanting to leave!” Her outburst crescendoed before it fell flat, the sadness and regret filling Laura’s heart and clouding her mind.

Carmilla remained silent, still clutching her arm in a supportive hold. She wanted to give Laura time to process and think about what she was feeling without interruption.

“I’m sorry, Carm,” Laura sighed, tears threatening to spill. “I’m just so tired of pretending.”

“You don’t have to pretend,” Carmilla said, moving her hand in a slow caress down her arm and interlocking their fingers, “Not with me.”

“I know,” she said again, this time with a small smile and a squeeze of the other woman’s hand.

“If it’s what you want, he will support you,” Carmilla reassured her.

“It’s not just that,” Laura sniffed, rubbing her own forehead to cope with the overwhelming feeling inside her. “I’m terrified that if I go for it, I will fail miserably and live with the inadequacy my whole life.”

The dam had been broken and there was no patching it up. Laura heaved in a shallow breath, tears streaming in uneven drops down the sides of her face. Her mind was racing was with all the thoughts she had been repressing because they were too painful to acknowledge. She did her best to stay optimistic through her daily life, but truth be told, it took a lot out of her. She spent years bottling emotions, keeping herself closed off and safe from the harsh reality of the world. This moment was a moment of clarity, of realization.

“C’mere,” Carmilla whispered. She weaved her arms around the small of her back, hugging her into her side as Laura sobbed in the crook of her neck. She let Laura lie there for as long as she needed, her cries subsiding to sniffles and a few whimpers.

Carmilla tried to coax a few words or a laugh, but Laura felt so much pain from the current war inside of her. She felt like all the words had been ripped out of her throat before they even had a chance to form. She wasn’t ready to speak just yet.

“I’m from Ohio,” Carmilla said to Laura, though she was unsure if she was listening.

“I grew up in the rich part of town. I was an only child and Mother was very picky about who I could be friends with. Not many kids, or their parents, were fond of dealing with someone as strict as her. From the beginning, I wasn’t worth it to people.” Laura shifted to gazed up at her, Carmilla’s face contorting with all the memories resurfacing.

“She expected the best out of me from a young age. I was placed in a private school, forced to take a number of extracurricular activities. It was tiring, but I loved seeing the glimpse of pride she expressed on the rare occasions that I did something right.”

“As I got older, I realized it was bullshit and started to rebel,” Carmilla continued, Laura following the narrative with rapt attention.

“I did what I wanted to do. In her mind, that was me purposefully trying to piss her off. It was a bit about that.” Carmilla chuckled and was surprised when Laura did too.

“But mostly, I just wanted to be free.”

“And one day, when I was 15, I just-” Carmilla trailed off, frustrated, “I was so angry and had reached the limit. Living with her abuse wasn’t the life I wanted. So I packed a bag with enough clothes and money to survive for a week, grabbed my guitar, and ran away.”

Laura's breath hitched, Carmilla’s words hitting her like a ton of bricks. She snuggled further into her, attempting to show comfort despite the fact that she was struggling herself.

“It was stupid. I would have died if it weren’t for Mattie,” Carmilla said. “She picked me up off the streets and took care of me, despite the legal risk.”

“I’m so sorry,” Laura choked out, her voice muffled.

“Don’t be,” Carmilla said steadily, her hands rubbing soothing circles into her back.

“I wouldn’t trade this life- the one I built for myself- for anything.” Carmilla met Laura’s gaze, who had started crying again.

“I had to take a great risk to get here. I could have ended up with Mother again or somewhere worse, but I didn’t. The reward was just as great.”

“Now, you just have to decide, are you willing to risk it?” Carmilla finished. Laura shook her head.

“I don’t know yet,” Laura sighed. Carmilla nodded, bumping their foreheads together with a gentle nudge.

“It takes time.”

“Thank you for telling me all that,” Laura said, changing the subject to a hopefully more light topic. She hadn’t intended for the night to be so solemn.

“I think I owe you, after everything you did for me,” Carmilla smiled.

“Don’t be silly, Carm,” Laura giggled, feeling a bit more like herself. “It wasn’t that much.”

“Oh, but it was, cupcake,” Carmilla said, her smile transforming into a smirk. It was mesmerizing to witness the change up close.

“A poor vagabond like me appreciates all the help she can get.”

“You’re terrible at accepting help, though,” Laura added.

“But really,” Laura said, sobering up from the lighter mood. “Thank you, for this and for the trip. It was a dream come true.”

“Now you’re mocking me with cliches,” Carmilla scoffed lightheartedly.

“I’m not!” Laura stifled a laugh, tightening her grip on Carmilla’s waist.

“You’re more devious than you let on, Hollis.” Laura blushed at the tone of Carmilla’s voice. It was seductive with a hint of playfulness. God, she really needed to learn how to deal with Carmilla’s teasing. Despite the nerves, she let a smirk of her own surface.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she drawled, definitely knowing what she was talking about. However, she had failed to register their closeness until now. She wasn’t aware of it during her breakdown but now, it was stifling being just a few inches from Carmilla.

She could feel her cool breath falling on her cheeks in an irregular pattern, the detailed textures of her unruly hair, the slight redness of her skin from being exposed to the sun without protection (in her defense, she had warned Carmilla about sunscreen but she had brushed her off, claiming skin was meant for sunlight). The dim light of the cabin was reflecting in Carmilla’s eyes an orange glow, almost dancing in the glassiness.

Her words from earlier echoed in her head.

_You don’t have to pretend. Not with me._

_I had to take a great risk to get here._

She was tired of pretending like her feelings for Carmilla were something less than platonic, less than earth-shattering, less than utterly foolish and uncalled for. But her feelings were also warm, passionate, fulfilling. There was no point in hiding the truth that she had come to realize over the course of the last few months: she had fallen for the snarky comments and ridiculous teasing, for the callous attitude and kindness, for her philosophical insights and stupid habits. She had fallen for her.

She wasn’t ready to chase all of her dreams yet, but there was one in particular that couldn’t wait. She was done stalling, convincing herself otherwise. It was time to take a great risk, like Carmilla mentioned.

She leaned up, capturing Carmilla’s lips in a soft kiss. She immediately backed off, doubt setting in as she scanned the other woman’s face. However, the doubt dissipated the moment it had arrived as Carmilla guided her into another kiss, this time more fervent.

Warmth was exploding from her chest, spreading out. Her insides were shifting, begging her to mold herself with Carmilla to become closer than she already was. Laura sighed into her mouth, cupping her cheek as their lips moved in tandem.

Laura was the first to pull back, her need for air outweighing the need to continue kissing Carmilla, though she had debated for a few hot seconds disregarding her lungs and detesting their need to function.

“Wow,” Laura sighed out, eyes opening to meet Carmilla’s intense gaze. “Was that okay? I don’t know if that was okay. I mean, you gave me advice and I just decided to go for it but I didn’t really consider how you would feel-”

“Laura,” Carmilla tried to interrupt but Laura kept going, her mouth running faster than she could theoretically run from this situation.

“-Oh god, that was selfish of me Carm! I hope I didn’t ruin anything by-” She was cut off by another kiss, which worked as an instant cure to silence her rambling.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” Carmilla confessed, a light blush appearing on her face. “Guess you beat me to it.”

She sighed, another soft puff of breath hitting Laura’s face, and let her head fell back onto the pillow in a black mess of tangles.

“Good,” Laura choked out, “That’s good because I wouldn’t want to have…”

“Fucked it up?” Carmilla finished for her.

“Yeah,” Laura said, her head falling onto it’s claimed place on Carmilla’s shoulder.

The silence was abundant. Laura was a little shocked and Carmilla, replaying the kiss in her head.

“Well, you had plenty of opportunities,” Laura said after a few skipped beats. She exaggerated the syllables of the word plenty to emphasis the sheer number of times they could have engaged in _this_ type of activity.

“Excuse me for being chivalrous and quadruple checking signals,” Carmilla grumbled as Laura pecked her cheek.

“I’m just teasing,” she said. “It’s sweet.”

“I’m not often described as sweet, cupcake,” Carmilla argued. “Usually terrifying or badass.”

“And you can’t be both?”

“One invalidates the other.”

“Not in my book,” Laura said. If she was standing up, her posture would have been perfect, executing her level of confidence in the statement she just made.

“Yeah, but ‘your book’ is located in the Restricted Section,” Carmilla said like she was reminding her of an undisputed fact.

“That’s kind of a compliment, those books are pretty rare,” Laura said. “Also, did you just make a Harry Potter reference?”

“Shut up,” Carmilla muttered, leaning in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again... riley's art..... it's excellent
> 
> http://ghostbinch.tumblr.com/post/165373646024/cbb-2017


	6. Collision Course

“Explain again, why are we doing this?”

“Because,” Laura chirped, turning down another aisle in the store marked as canned goods, “You need more food and I need snacks to make up for the last few weekend hangouts I’ve missed.” Carmilla, who had been assigned cart pushing duties, huffed and continued to trudge along a few steps behind her.

Laura felt bad for having blown off her friends for her… Carmilla.

Her girlfriend, Carmilla.

It was a long standing tradition and the only times she ever skipped was when she was too sick to get out of bed. Last time she checked, absence was punishable by humiliation, shunning, or death. Metaphorical, of course. For her sake, she assumed they forgot all about the ridiculous rules set at the beginning of their planning. They were younger and dumber then, were they really going to punish her for prioritizing?

Through her logic (and Carmilla’s devious persuasion), she realized it was more important to spend time with her. She could see her friends whenever she wanted, as long as no one moved. Carmilla was not so permanent. She tried her hardest to forget, to not ruin the limited time she might have with Carmilla but every once and awhile, the thought creeped up and wouldn’t leave. To cope, she did what she always had: repressed and focused on the more positive side of things.

Regardless, Laura thought it would be wise to prepare herself and come with gifts to extend an olive branch and prove her remorse. Kirsch, Will, and Perry wouldn’t be bothered, it was Laf and Danny she was worried about. They tended to be fairly harsh. Danny was a stickler for attendance and rules, while Laf was just an ass and loved to give her a hard time. So there she was, dragging her broody counterpart around, forcing her to shop for the two of them.

“I don’t need to be babysat,” Carmilla said, hunching over the cart in faux exhaustion. “I don’t need you to feed me.” Laura frowned and peered over her shoulder.

“I just thought it would be easier this way. And we get to spend more time together.” Laura shrugged and Carmilla raised her head.

“You know I love spending time with you,” Carmilla sighed. “But I would rather be doing _other things_.” Her tone was suggestive and Laura aimed an intense laser-point stare at a can of peaches to distract herself from Carmilla’s intention.

“Once we finish here, we can do whatever you want.” Carmilla’s eyebrows rose and Laura cleared her throat, shifting in the awkward flustered dance she did. “Until then, less flirting, more shopping!” She pivoted, grabbing a random can to re-engage herself and sped down the aisle. Carmilla smirked and followed.

When the food had been collected and purchased, they rode in Billie to their usual spot on the beach. Together, they unpacked and placed all the new food in their rightful cupboards, Laura encouraging Carmilla to actually organize them so they would be easier to find. There was still a little time left before the sun set and Laura had to head over to the pier, so she surprise tackled Carmilla into her bed.

They fell back over the raised platform, crushing the pillows and tangling the blanket into a mess of fabric. Technically, their feet were in the space their heads should be, but Laura was too comfortable clinging to Carmilla’s stomach to switch their position.

“You’re ridiculous, cupcake,” Carmilla chuckled lowly, running her fingers in a loving pattern through Laura’s sunkissed hair.

“You love it,” Laura mumbled, her face shoved into Carmilla’s soft t-shirt. Carmilla nodded in response, reveling in Laura’s scent and the feel of her snuggled against her abdomen.

“You can come, y'know? I’m sure they would love to meet you.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Laura countered. “They’ve been curious about you for months.”

“You haven’t been divulging my classified information to them, have you?” Carmilla joked, sarcasm weaved in between each word.

“Of course not! You’re a mystery to them,” Laura said and Carmilla smirked.

“Just how it should be.” Laura rolled her eyes.

“Sure thing, Ms. Dark and Brooding.”

“Even if my reputation is based on false pretenses, I would still like to uphold it,” Carmilla said.

“Fair enough,” Laura replied. “A mystery, you shall remain.”

Carmilla caught Laura off guard, rolling on top of her and pinning her down in the process. Laura’s breath hitched at the increase of closeness.

Carmilla leaned down, placing several kisses in different areas of her face before landing on her lips. Laura clasped Carmilla’s face in her hands and Carmilla let out a moan of approval. The moment continued for a few minutes, the two sharing kisses and sweet words.

“I have to go,” Laura said, realizing just how dark it had become outside. She had lost track of time with certain distractions.

“Don’t,” Carmilla whispered, trailing a path of kisses down her exposed neck, her arms tightening around her waist.

“They’ll kill me if I don’t show,” Laura said, heaving a few struggling breaths. Carmilla rolled off of her, respecting Laura’s requested but lingered close. She looked defeated, almost pouting.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Laura reassured, unwinding her arms from around Carmilla’s neck and squeezing her shoulders. “You want to stay over at my place tonight?”

“Is your dad making pancakes in the morning?” Laura considered her question.

“Maybe, but he might try something new if he knows you’re coming.”

Both women shivered at the thought.

“Don’t tell him I’ll be there,” Carmilla pleaded. “I’m not willing to take that risk.”

Laura laughed, giving her one final kiss, which lasted longer than she anticipated. She slid out from under Carmilla, who had snuck back on top of her, in an abrupt move. She sat up so she wouldn’t lose more time to Carmilla’s charm and end up late. She was definitely late now.

She straightened out her hair and shifted her clothes back into their rightful, crisp fashion. Carmilla watched as she crawled to the end of her bed and crouched to stand. She moved around, collecting her belongings and the forgiveness arsenal she had purchased for the hangout in her arms.

“See you at 12, Carm!” She said, yanking the side doors open. When she went to step out, she hadn’t checked to see if her path was clear. Her foot got stuck in the crevice amid the door and the hinges, falling out of the car.

“Laura!” Carmilla called out, rushing over to see what had happened.

“I’m good!” Laura said from her position, face first on the ground. “I saved the food.” Carmilla looked around, noticing she had thrown the contents inside her living room before the fall.

“Now I understand why Sherman has safety precautions heavily placed on you,” Carmilla sighed, clambering out to help her girlfriend.

-

Laura’s trek over to the bonfire felt more tedious than usual.

It could have had something to do with the fact that she was carrying the full amount of food in her arms or that the beach was completely dark, except for the fire in the distance, serving as her beacon of destination. Maybe it had something to do with the woman she had just left, who was no doubt moping due to her absence.

Either way, her muscles were starting to feel the fatigue associated with long term hauling and the sand stuck in her shoes were rubbing her toes raw. Just a little further and she could sit down and guzzle down a (normal brand of) beer to assist her through this evening.

As she walked closer, she could here the tell tale signs of a usual argument and banter scattered among the group. The fire was taller than she ever remembered it, the hang out in full swing. Regret settled in the moment she was within eyesight, everyone honing in on her.

“Could it be? Do my eyes deceive me?!” Laf gasped, exaggerating their shock. Perry, who was knitting besides them, gave a disapproving look. They acknowledged her but dismissed the look for wanting to pick on Laura.

“Nah bro, she’s the real deal!” Kirsch grinned.

“Guys, shut up,” Danny said, brows furrowed in displeasure. Her face lightened up as she looked back to Laura.

“Hollis! Where have you been for the past couple of weeks?” Her smile was hopeful but there was an undertone that was saturated with worry. Laura dumped the contents on the ground, choosing to relieve her arms before addressing the posed questions.

“Oh, I’ve just been really busy. That’s all.” Laura deflected, shifting on the balls of her feet. Danny looked unconvinced but didn’t ask for her to elaborate further.

“What could have been so important that you missed 3 weeks!” Laf cried, “I’ve been keeping track.” They floundered to retrieve a crumpled piece of paper from their pocket. They straightened it out on their thigh, holding it up for everyone to see. Written in bright, red ink are three tally marks under an L.

“You know what happens when you skip!”

“Yeah, but uh- I brought food,” Laura said, picking up a bag from the lopsided pile.

“What kind?” Lafontaine narrowed their eyes at her.

“Chips, pretzels, brownies, beans for Kirsch,” a quiet _yes!_ could be heard coming from Kirsch, “Coca cola and,” Laura paused, searching through a bag and holding up a large bottle, “Whisky.”

“We’ll talk later. Welcome back, frosh,” they said, patting Laura on the shoulder and snatching the alcohol. There was a chorus of sounds in agreement, welcoming her into the celebration.

From there, things carried on as normal. All of the food was distributed to the hungry and slightly high members of the group. It was a packed night due to the crowd of members made up of the core group and their other friends attending.

Everyone happily chowed down, focusing on the argument that had transpired before Laura’s arrival, debating which meme was the best meme of all time. The results had been narrowed down to two memes and the group was split.

“Pepe is applicable to any situation,” Lafontaine said. “Logically, that makes him the best.”

“So can the 2000’s memes!” Kirsch argued.

“I hate to say this but I agree with the man child,” Danny chimed in. “Seeing that frog over and over again gets annoying.”

“How can you be annoyed when he isn’t around anymore,” Laura said, in defense of the meme.

“Good point. His prime is over, he’s practically rare at this point,” Lafontaine said, fist bumping Laura.

“Alright, but if he’s that great, why isn’t he still around?” Kirsch asked.

“Because people don’t appreciate art!” Lafontaine shouted. “Perr, what do you think?”

The arguing ceased, all eyes directed at Perry. She continued knitting but looked up as though she was contemplating her answer.

“I like the frog, he is troubled but seems nice,” she said. Victorious cheers and disappointed groans erupted at the admission. Her opinion was the end all, be all with most arguments.

“Now, the real question is, which online frog is the best?” Lafontaine proposed. Everyone began talking at once, expressing their opinions as Lafontaine simply chuckled and took another sip of beer, pleased at their stirring up another argument.

Laura was grateful that no one had paid much attention to her absence. None of them had brought it up or even mentioned it in passing to tease her. Apparently, there were far more interesting things to discuss. She thought she was in the clear until there was a stall in the overall conversation and Lafontaine spoke those dreaded words.

“You’ve been off the hook for long enough, Hollis,” Lafontaine said between bites of their brownie. “What’s the deal?”

“Yeah,” Danny said. “It’s very unlike you to miss, especially without telling us. Are you okay? Were you taken against your will, kidnapped?” Laura laughed at the irony of that statement, before realizing her mistake. She was the only one who found that situation humorous.

“I’m fine,” Laura said, running through the next statement in her head. She knew exactly why she was hesitant. It wasn’t about her relationship, because that was easy to profess. She had so much she could say about Carmilla. It was the anticipated reaction that would be hard to take.

“I’ve been hanging out with Carmilla.”

“Who?” Several people asked in unison, while others seemed unbothered. Danny looked like Laura was personally trying to attack her, Lafontaine was observing her curiously, and Kirsch was confused but smiling like always, patiently waiting.

“It’s a funny story, hilarious actually,” Laura chuckled nervously. She took a huge swig of beer, hoping it would save her from the impending embarrassment.

“Remember that van? The one that’s always parked here?” A sea of nods responded, the whole group hanging on the edge of their seats.

“Well, I sort of… met the person who lives there. Her name is Carmilla and she’s-”

Laura was interrupted with questions being thrown at her left and right. She should have expected the group of people to lose their chill and talk over one another. She tried shouting over the commotion but her voice wasn’t loud enough. She resorted to a loud whistle, which echoed into the night, and silence fell upon them.

“Thank you!” Laura said, exasperated, “Anyway, as I was saying, Carmilla is great and I really like her so please give her some privacy.” Everyone was about to speak but she held up her hand.

“One at a time,” Laura chided, frustrated at their childish antics.

“You’ve really been holding out on us,” Will said.

“I need to meet her. There is a standard series of question I want her to answer and in the process, confirm a few theories of mine,” Lafontaine said.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Laura objected.

“Is she there now?” Laf asked, bolting up out of their seat and squinting into the darkness.

“You should totally invite her over here,” Kirsch said. “It would be like, so rad!” He turned, sharing a few secret words with Will and they high-fived. The murmuring from the collective audience pressured her to acquiesce.

“Fine!”

Laura stomped all the way to Carmilla’s van, yet again in the dark and tripping over dunes, talking to herself under her breath the entire time. After all, she was pissed at her friends for the unintentional peer pressure that she had just given in to. It was her own fault.

She knocked rapidly on Carmilla’s side door until it swung open. Her face went from grumpy to pleased in the matter of a few seconds.

“Cupcake,” she drawled, “Glad you decided to ditch.”

“I didn’t,” Laura huffed. Her tolerance for pestering behavior and bullshit was low and it didn’t help that she was torn between two different parts of her life, when she shouldn’t even have to decide.

“Oh,” Carmilla face fell, confused. “Then, what’s up?”

“My friends want to meet you,” Laura cut straight to the point, exhaling forcefully.

“Okay,” Carmilla shrugged.

“Okay?” Laura clarified, visibly incredulous at her answer.

“Yeah, if it means that much to you.”

“I don’t want to force you into doing something you don’t want to do.” Laura frowned.

“You already did that with the shopping,” Carmilla teased. “I think I can handle it.”

“Are you sure? Because I can bail on them and we can go straight to my place.” Laura bit her lip, rocking on her heels.

“No, it’s fine.” Laura rushed forward, planting a kiss on her cheeks.

“I’ll be sure to make it worth your while,” she whispered while in Carmilla’s space. When she stepped back, she smiled, a hint of deviousness reflecting in her eyes. Carmilla smirked in response, looking back inside her van. She blindly grabbed her leather jacket and jumped out, landing right in front of Laura.

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

Laura took hold of her hand, setting a leisure pace toward the pier. She wasn’t in any hurry to show up again, not with the interrogation and endless jokes waiting.

They walked in a zigzag path, crossing the bumpy sands, skimming the tide, and back. The made a game picking out which shells looked the prettiest in the moonlight and who could stay the most steady on the uneven ground.

Once they were within close distance to the camp, which was still buzzing with socialization and energy, Laura gave Carmilla one last look. She hoped Carmilla understood what she was saying, though there were no words coming from her mouth. They held eye contact for a moment and Laura found herself a bit lost in features of her face. Carmilla smiled briefly and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, as if telling her she was ready.

Together, they walked into the light, sliding their way between two of the logs and into the circle. No one immediately noticed them, too involved in the conversation. One by one, their attention was pulled to the both of them, casually standing and waiting for any reaction.

Perry was the first to realize. She offered a polite smile to her and Carmilla but continued working on her scarf. She didn’t bother alerting the group.

Danny was next. She took one side glance away from her friends and had to do a double take. Once the information registered in her brain, she stood up, face hard and curled knuckles at her side like she was prepared to fight offense or defense, whichever came first. Laura could tell that her guard was up; she didn’t trust Carmilla, despite her earlier words. She towered over everyone and acted as a beacon for others to leave their conversations.

Danny’s friends halted their conversation because without Danny, it was mostly directionless. Will was able to get Kirsch’s attention with a simple smack on the arm. He looked over, his eyes widening. He began whispering to Will, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

With Kirsch distracted, Lafontaine was freed from another heated debate and took the scenario in. Both women had been standing their for a couple minutes, waiting for something to happen. An introduction, a fight, anything.

“So, this is the infamous vehicle dweller,” Laf said, sizing Carmilla up.

“You must be the mad scientist,” Carmilla responded with her usual air of aloofness. Laf stuck out their hand. Carmilla assessed them with a critical glance and grabbed it for a hesitant shake.

Laura smiled in delight, doing a happy dance inside her head. She was relieved that her girlfriend was making somewhat of an effort to get along with them.

“Everyone, this is Carmilla,” Laura announced.

“Carmilla, these are my friends,” she said, rattling off all of their names and gesturing to them. Most of them gave a nod or small response, except for Danny. She had taken her seat again, but was still sulking.

With introductions out of the way, the party resumed. Laura lead them to sit on her log, grabbing beers for the both of them.

Lafontaine tried to ask Carmilla a bunch of questions, which were either shot down or answered with witty responses that didn’t make any sense. Being on the outside in watching Carmilla converse with other people in her avoidance and sarcastic tone was much more fun than being involved. Eventually, Perry was able to save her from another few hours of interrogation by insisting that she needed some sort of help that only Lafontaine was able to manage. Carmilla gave Perry a grateful smile, snuggling closer to Laura.

That wasn’t the end for her. Kirsch and Will wanted to know everything about her car, life on the road, and personal details of her life. The outcome was the same as with Laf, though she gave a few honest answer to persuade them to leave.

The night was spent cuddling in front of the blazing fire, listen to conversations around them. Every once and awhile, Carmilla would make observations or guesses about her friends (that often ended up being correct) and Laura would play along.

Danny and Lafontaine had given them both certain looks with drastically different intents.

Danny was bitter and a bit of a sore person for having their intimate relationship flaunted around. Laura wasn’t too worried, that was Danny’s problem. Laf, on the other hand, gave an “I know what’s going on there, Hollis” type of look. She hadn’t mentioned they were together but she didn’t know if that had been okay with Carmilla. It would have been helpful to discuss earlier but there wasn’t enough time.

Overall, it went alright in Laura’s opinion. Carmilla got along well and everyone seemed to like her, for the most part, which didn’t entirely matter to her but it would be nice to have her friends blessings.

There was even a moment when Laura had been dragged from Carmilla’s side to engage in a weird game of beer pong, situated in the sand. She noticed Carmilla had migrated over to where Perry was and they were actually talking. Perry was usually consumed by her knitting projects, but it seemed as though she was invested in the conversation instead of shying away from Carmilla’s intimidating aura. Carmilla herself appeared to be having a good time.

It was nearing the end of the session, the fire burnt out and the clean up crew working on picking up all their trash, when Lafontaine walked up to them.

“Hey, Laf,” Laura said, Carmilla standing a few inches behind her.

“Hey, you two heading home?” they asked, gaze flicking between the both of them.

“Yep!” Laura grinned.

“It was nice meeting you,” they said, leaning around Laura to address Carmilla. “You still owe me some answers, however, that I would like to receive before-”

“I’ll consider it,” Carmilla said monotonously.

“Laura here will have to convince you.” Laf wiggled their eyebrows.

“She’s capable,” Carmilla smirked and Laura ducked her head to avoid broadcasting her embarrassment.

“I’m sure,” Laf agreed. “Can I have a moment with her? Alone.” Carmilla shrugged.

“I’ll be over there, cupcake,” Carmilla said, pointing in the vague direction of the van. Laura nodded, watching her stroll off.

Before she was even out of earshot, Lafontaine shot her that same look from earlier across the firepit.

“What?” Laura asked, holding fast to her feigned innocence.

“Don’t _‘what’_ me, Hollis. There was a distinct lack of subtlety this evening.” A staring contest ensued, both of them holding their ground and sticking firm until Laura gave in with a groan. Lafontaine spoke before she could.

“You don’t have to say anything, but you should know by now that me and the rest of us, we’re here for you,” Lafontaine said sincerely. “Even if Danny is a little butthurt.” They both laughed and then Laura sighed, shifting on her feet.

“Whatever’s going on with you two, we support it.”

“Thanks, Laf.” Laura pulled them into a firm hug, “She’s very special to me.”

“I know,” they said. “I see it. Reminds me of the way people tell me I look at Perr.”

“We’re that obvious?” Laura pretended to gagged.

“Like satellite in an open field obvious,” Laf nodded. Laura tilted her head. Sometimes, their analogies were beyond her comprehension. Their thought process was on a different level of scientific proportions.

They shared their final goodbyes, but as Laura left to catch up with Carmilla, they called her back again.

“About your absence,” Lafontaine said and Laura braced herself for the ruling of the Local Styrian Jury that was likely to convict her of several crimes and announce her sentence.

“Next time, just show up and bring her with you!”

-

After they had left the party, they went back to Carmilla’s van and grabbed some essentials for her to stay the night. It wasn’t much because both of the Hollis members had adequately provided for her whenever she came to their house.

Laura had opened a spare toothbrush and allotted a chair at the dinner table for Carmilla to sit in whenever they ate there (most times, their meals were at the couch, watching a movie or relaxing). Her favorite cereal was stashed in the pantry, among the plethora of other snacks they had stocked up on specifically for her. Mr. Hollis always made sure there were clean sheets in the guest bedroom (which was just his work office, temporarily converted into a sleeping area with a cot and pillow to top it off) and left magazines and newspapers for her to look at. Carmilla loved the reading material, but didn’t use the cot. She slept in Laura’s bed multiple times, despite the complaints of blanket hogging.

The laundry incident last month had left them with mixed up laundry and neither had bothered to go through and sort their items out again. They were both the same size, so Carmilla often showed up to greet Laura in one of her own tanktops, having no idea it wasn’t hers (or she pretended. Laura knew Carmilla secretly loved to wear her shirts). There was one time when Laura pulled on a pair of pants without checking and turned out to be Carmilla’s infamous leather pants. The feeling of leather rubbing against her skin and the occasional squeak was awkward but she wore them to mess with her girlfriend. Carmilla’s reaction was equal part shocked and pleased. She requested she keep them on for just a little bit longer.

The minimal supplies had been collected and Carmilla agreed to leave the van behind and travel the distance to Laura’s house on foot, due to the nice weather blowing in.

“One of my favorite things about this place is the lack of light pollution,” Carmilla said wistfully as they walked hand in hand, gazing flitting across the dotted, black sky. It was a clear night, the wind still and the clouds having migrated somewhere else. The moon, shaped in a half circle, kept the constellations company.

“Why do you like the stars so much?”

“Their timelessness is comforting. Societies will continue to fixate on them, finding their own meanings.”

“Until the universe explodes yet again,” Laura chuckled.

“At that point, stars will be least of our worries,” Carmilla said. “One star shines a light, projecting differently to everyone who sees it. The subjectivity, the fluidity, it’s incomparable.”

“Wow, Carm, that was beautiful,” Laura said, gaze locked onto Carmilla’s. “And to think, I like clouds just because they make fun shapes sometimes.” Carmilla laughed, releasing her hand to throw an arm around her shoulder.

“Not everyone is as philosophically inclined as I,” Carmilla boasted.

“Alright, Albert Carm-us.”

“I’m going to stop you right there, that was a horrible joke,” Carmilla grimaced while Laura was laughing at her own joke.

“No, no,” Laura wheezed, “I think that was one of my best.”

“Who’s the cocky one now?” Carmilla raised an eyebrow.

“Still you,” Laura said, situating herself as close to Carmilla as she could without tripping their strides. Carmilla pecked her cheek with a sigh. They rounded another corner, turning onto Laura’s street. There were no street lamps, amplifying the glowing stars above them.

“Let’s pick a star,” Laura said.

“What?”

“Let’s pick a star and make it ours,” Laura bowed her head, overcome with timidness. “Wherever you are, I want to know we are seeing the same sky, gazing at the same star. You won’t seem so far away.”

Carmilla was going to argue, teasing Laura about the sheer sappiness of the request but the expression on her face made her rethink. She could humor her, just this once.

“It might be a little difficult,” Carmilla said, scrutinizing their choices, “because the stars cycle. If we chose a specific time, we could pinpoint an exact star and it’s coordinance.”

Both of them began looking for the perfect one, one that represented them and their adventures together. The search wasn’t easy, they were both very critical. Some stars were too dim, hard to find, too close to a cluster of others, leaving it indistinguishable. Their search came to an end when Laura spotted a candidate that met her requirements.

“How about that one,” Laura said, pointing to a small glow. Carmilla followed her finger up to locate it.

“That one?” Carmilla clarified and Laura hummed in affirmation.

“It’s perfect,” Carmilla smiled and Laura smiled back. “It’s 1 am and now, we know where to look.”

“Should we name it?” Laura said, bouncing on her toes.

“No,” Carmilla said. “Things like this don’t need a name. A single word can’t be used to describe the memories and feeling associated with that big ball of dying light.”

“Normally, I would disagree,” Laura chuckled, “but you’re right.”

They took a moment to gaze at their star. It was alone in the middle of a sea of light, glowing without intent to outshine the others. The twinkling glow Laura thought it looked similar to glint she caught in Carmilla’s eyes. It was hard to catch, quick to disappear, but it was there, especially when she was looking at her. It reminded her of all the times they had done this: simply looked at the sky, basking in the silence with each other and contemplating their universe.

At some point, Laura had switched from the star to Carmilla. She looked distressed, eyebrows furrowed and an unusual frown on her face.

“Carm, what’s wrong?” Laura tried not to be worried but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. She moved out of their embracing to stand in front of her. She placed her hands on her forearms, rubbing up and down. Carmilla wouldn’t maintain eye contact.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Carmilla whispered, hesitant and unsure.

“Whatever it is, I’m listening,” Laura said.

“I have to go,” Carmilla said slowly, as if she was picking her words with utmost precision.

“Go where?” Laura asked, confusion written all over her face.

“Somewhere,” Carmilla stuttered, “I can’t be here anymore.” Laura took a step back, refusing to believe the words her girlfriend had just spoke.

“Carm, what are you-”

“Summer is ending and I’m running out of money,” Carmilla admitted, hands shrugging in defeat.

“If that’s the problem, I’m sure you could get a job here.” Laura smiled but she knew it didn’t reach her eyes. The possibility that Carmilla could be leaving so soon and on such short notice put a damper on her previous mood.

“You know that’s not how my life works.” Carmilla shook her head, teeth gritted and frustration building behind the facade she had worked so hard to preserve throughout this conversation.

“But it could,” Laura forced out, grip tightening on her arms, the material of Carmilla’s sleeves scrunching underneath her palms. She could feel the tears brimming behind her eyes as the desperation kicked in.

“Y- you could get a job and stay with me at my house. You practically live there and then you would have enough money saved to get back on the road. It would be perfect.”

“It could take me months to save enough.” She shook her head again.

“Exactly,” Laura begged with a whisper. “Just please, don’t go.” Laura watched as Carmilla let her own tears run down her cheeks without stopping them or forcing them away.

“Come with me,” Carmilla blurted out.

“What?” Laura said, hurt flashing sharp across her features.

“I had been thinking about asking you and was trying to work the details out,” Carmilla said, taking Laura’s hands from her shoulders and holding them.

“I could help you adjust to this new life. We could go to the places I’ve been, places we both haven’t seen, maybe somewhere we didn’t even expect to go. I have everything we need.” Carmilla choked back a sob, conscious of her deteriorating composure. “You wouldn’t be alone.”

“Stop,” Laura cried. She let go of Carmilla’s hands, shuffling backward.

“You know I can’t,” Laura said. “I have a life, friends, my dad.”

“Those are just excuses,” Carmilla scoffed.

“Excuses?!” Laura reiterated in shock. “What about you? It wouldn’t kill you to stay for a few days, weeks, or even a month. But out of nowhere, you chose now to leave! After...” She crossed her arms, hot tears of anger falling.

“After what, Laura? Do tell.” Carmilla’s smirk was malicious, mocking. She stalked forward, sizing Laura up. She reminded Laura of the old Carmilla, the one she knew before she knew her. The one she had met in her van on that dark and stormy day, practically kidnapped and too curious for her own well being. She didn’t understand how they could revert to this dynamic in mere moments, as if none of their history mattered.

“Forget it,” Laura spat out, bumping Carmilla’s shoulder as she tried to walk to her house.

“You can't just expect me to drop everything and change my entire life because I-”

Laura stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn’t speak. Her throat felt like sandpaper and words were failing her. She turned on her heels, dumbfounded but Carmilla glared in response, refusing to continue her sentence. Eventually, her expression evened out, looking as defeated as Laura felt inside. Laura didn’t have a chance to retaliate because Carmilla was already heading in the direction back to her van.

“Carm, wait!” She yelled at Carmilla’s retreating silhouette, “Let’s talk about this.”

She kept walking without a single confirmation that she had heard Laura’s plea.


	7. Broken Start

Laura couldn’t sleep that night, or the night after that.

So she spent her mornings napping, her afternoons moping, and her nights laying in bed, awake and drowning in the thoughts and regrets of that night a few weeks ago. It was ironic, yet made complete sense to her that the darkness was when her sleeplessness reared it’s ugly head. Without the distractions the daytime could provide, like silly jokes from her desperate dad or her favorite tub of chocolate ice cream (the several pints), the memories of summer haunted her. Except it wasn’t summer that made her feel all these messy, stupid feelings. It was her girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend.

Whatever she was, she’d left Laura without a proper goodbye. There was a farewell involved, but the first one was bitter and the second was quite like receiving a message through the childish game of telephone, garbled and distorted through traveling the line.

She hadn’t heard from Carmilla for a few days, which she assumed was normal. They needed time to cool off. She would have spent this time constantly checking her phone, but Carmilla didn’t have one or even her own phone number. The only means to contact her was to get out of bed and find her.

That wasn’t going to happen.

Perry and Lafontaine had come to visit about a week after the fight. She hadn’t been keeping track of the dates but if her friends went out of their way to check on her, it must have been a while.

Mr. Hollis didn’t let them in the first few times because Laura begged him not to. He had managed to tide their worries and convince them he had it under control. Her father had passed along the message that Carmilla’s van wasn’t parked on the beach anymore. Lafontaine said they would be investigating into her disappearance and would send information when it surfaced.

There weren’t a lot of updates containing helpful substance and she knew the reason behind it all.

Carmilla had skipped town.

Laura might have done the same thing if the roles had been swapped. Rejection of any kind stung and though Laura hadn’t outright denied her offer, her words and body language had shouted the message loud and clear.

While she could see it from Carmilla’s point of view, she was also furious for what she saw. It wasn’t right for her girlfriend to leave without an attempt to mend their situation. She didn’t even know if they were still technically together as a couple. Their fight wasn’t meant to be the end of them. Perhaps, a break up would have been the easiest solution but Laura was willing to put up a fight for Carmilla. Except right now, she needed reset time. There wasn’t a single ounce of motivation in her to seek out someone who was off the grid, impossible to find, and didn’t want to talk.

However hopeful she had sounded in the beginning, she flew off course. As time passed, she didn’t feel any better and was content to remain unchanging in her attitude. Laura would have continued to wallow in her own self loathing if not for her friends, who were persistent in their abilities. They didn’t give up and tried multiple times to break through Mr. Hollis and his fortress of protection to contact Laura. He had thought it was the right thing to do. In his experience, time alone would aid the process of recovery, but it soon morphed into an uncontrollable state of being.

He relented on the third week when Laura requested that he order a large stock of ice cream in bulk and learn how to pirate movies because she had watched all theirs and was sick of them.

The sugar addiction was normal, just amplified; what appalled him was the thought of his daughter encouraging illegal acts, for her own benefit. He could tell that this broken heart wouldn’t be mended without intervention, so he invited Lafontaine and Perry over in a last effort to pull her from the hole she had sunk into.

The three of them stood in the threshold of Laura’s room, watching the sedentary lump of blankets, that looked as if it occasionally breathed, that was now Laura.

“I would ask how Laura is,” Lafontaine said to a glum Mr. Hollis, “But clearly, she isn’t fine.”

“Shh!” Perry hushed them, “How would you feel if the love of your life left without so much as a word?”

“She wasn’t the love of my life,” Laura interrupted. She sat up, unwashed hair tangled and falling in her face, the sheets still tucked behind her shoulders. “But a goodbye would have been courteous.”

As soon as she had gotten those words out, she flopped back down onto her mattress in a sad heap. Both Perry and Mr. Hollis gave each other concerned looks while Lafontaine just rolled their eyes.

“Quit your pining and get outta bed, Hollis.” They broke through the wall of empathy that was composed of Laura’s two sympathizers and marched right beside her bed. Perry followed hesitantly but Mr. Hollis hung back.

“I’m not pining,” Laura said, muffled under the cushiony barrier between her and the rest of the functioning world.

“Like hell you aren’t.” They flipped open the blinds on the window next to her bed, letting the light flow in. Laura grunted and they ripped off the blanket, exposing her to the environment. The grunt escalated into a groan of protest deep from her throat as Perry began dusting her dresser and side tables off.

Lafontaine grabbed her wrist and began pulling her upright. Laura acted limp and wouldn’t budge.

“A little help here,” they heaved, tugging their dense, unresponsive friend. Perry looked guilty and dropped her dusting tissue.

Together, they were able to force Laura to sit but she purposefully hung her head, unwilling to cooperate. Mr. Hollis, an onlooker of the whole debacle, chuckled at his daughter’s stubborn behavior. He had had to deal with this for years, starting when she was a kid. As she grew up, acting dead was Laura’s defense mechanism when she didn’t want to do something.

Lafontaine slammed their hands onto Laura’s cheeks, maneuvering her head so she was looking straight into their eyes.

“It’s Saturday. We are going to get some food from Sandy’s, watch one of your favorite movies, and then get drunk as fuck under the pier tonight. Understood?”

“But-” Laura objected. Her mouth was puckered and it was hard for her to speak with squished cheeks.

“No buts. You’ve been wallowing long enough.” Lafontaine gazed at Perry and then Mr. Hollis, nodding their head in Laura’s direction, begging for backup help.

“It would be beneficial for both your mental and physical health if you go some fresh air,” Perry said.

“Kiddo, it’s time,” Mr. Hollis said.

Laura took a moment, a blank stare point at all three of them.

“Alright,” Laura sighed.

“Excellent,” Lafontaine said, patting her cheeks. “Be ready in 10.”

They walked out of the room, disappearing in a flash. It was too fast for Laura’s muddled brain to process. Mr. Hollis had followed Lafontaine down the hall but Perry lingered at the end her bed.

“What’s up, Perry?” Laura asked through a yawn, rubbing the drool and crust from her face.

“Ms. Karnstein left this,” Perry said, retrieving an envelope that was creased like it had been folded and unfolded. She placed it on her sheets with a nod. “For you.”

“Who left what?” Laura tilted her head. That name wasn’t familiar in the slightest.

“Carmilla,” she whispered, looking back to the door. “I’ll see you downstairs.” She left the room in quick strides, the shuffle of her feet upon carpet signifying her exeunt.

All the color had drained from Laura’s face the moment Perry had uttered Carmilla’s name. It was quite a shock to hear she had something from Carmilla that she’d given to her for the sole purpose of passing it along. She’d never learned her last name, which shocked her even more to know.

Dread sunk in as she stared at the envelope, it’s creases mocking her like the letters Harry received from Hogwarts. Laura wasn’t sure she could stomach whatever message Carmilla had left for her.

She opened her bedside table drawer and with the strength of a WWE wrestler, threw it inside. She closed it was a hard thwack, forcing it out of her mind. If she wasn’t dressed in the next couple of minutes, Lafontaine was going to pester her more than ever before.

-

“How long has she been like this?” Danny asked, running her hand through her long red locks in a nervous habit.

“About a week or two, I suspect.” Lafontaine took another observant look at the moping woman across the fire, who was curled in on herself, nursing a beer and a deepening pout.

“Scratch that,” they corrected themself, “Three weeks minimum.”

They had cancelled the group hang out tonight for everyone but the original gang. Lafontaine, Perry, Danny, and Kirsch all sat squished on the same log across the firepit from Laura, talking about her current emotional state.

“It can’t be that bad,” Danny denied.

“We practically had to force her to eat like a puppet. She tried to nap during Beauty and the Beast,” Lafontaine glared, gesturing toward Laura. “Look.”

All eyes were shifted to Laura, who (they thought) remained unaware that she was the topic of debate. Danny winced and shot her a sympathetic frown, which went unnoticed.

“Scary hottie really wrecked little nerd,” Kirsch said, distressed at his friend’s pain.

“She won’t last when school starts,” Lafontaine said. “She needs to move on and focus on the important things.”

“I could get her involved in some sports. Practice and games take up a lot of time,” Danny offered.

“Oh, oh, oh! I could talk to some of the guy about letting her into the frat,” Kirsch shouted.

“Girls can’t join. Nice try, _bro,_ ” Danny scoffed.

“Um, they so can! We don’t discriminate,” Kirsch said.

Laura could hear every word they were saying. The distance did nothing to mute their conversation about her and her girlfriend and the schemes they could possibly use to trick her into moving on.

Well, she officially decided she wasn’t going to.

Moping around and pining (Laf’s words, not hers) was comfortable. Why did they care anyway? It wasn’t their relationship and summer wasn’t over yet. She was allowed to do what she wanted with her time, including things like depression naps, eating her feelings via ice cream, and mourning the loss of Carmilla’s presence.

“Hey, frosh,” Lafontaine said, sitting next to her. During her inner monologue, the group had ceased their conversation and Laf had acted as the representative to extend contact.

“Hey,” Laura replied, her voice soft and barely audible, even in the silence.

“How’re you holding up?” They asked, being more careful than usual.

“I’m not.” Laura sniffled, taking a few gulps of her beer in one drink.

“Carmilla wouldn’t want you to be upset.”

“Oh, cut the shit,” Laura barked. Her anger was flaring up again out of nowhere. She was tired of her friends feeling sorry for her, treating her like a delicate child that needed to be coddled.

“Tell me what you really think.”

“What I really think? You’re not acting like yourself,” Laf said and Laura glared.

“I’m serious! The Laura I know would never let something as dumb as this stop her.”

“It’s not dumb,” Laura mumbled behind her beer bottle.

“Fine, not dumb,” Lafontaine agreed. “Still. You’re headstrong, passionate, determined. All of that left the second Carmilla did.” Laura nodded along, fresh tears manifesting with their speech.

“She shouldn’t take pieces of you with her.”

Laura finally broke, letting out a sob into the night. She slowly tipped over, her head falling onto Lafontaine’s waiting shoulder. They rubbed her back as they let her cry, the rest of the group busying themselves with other distractions to give them privacy. After a while, Laura straightened up, not bothering to compose herself.

“I messed up,” Laura said, wiping her face with the back of her hand. The steady stream of tears running down her cheeks made it hard to focus on lamenting.

“It’s like a science experiment,” Laf said. “Change the variable, redo the experiment.”

“It’s too late for that,” Laura said. “She asked me to go with her.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I- I just couldn’t.”

“You could have,” Lafontaine replied in a firm retaliation. “You just didn’t want to.”

“I did!”

“Well, if you did, you’d be miles away from Styria by now,” Lafontaine chuckled mirthlessly.

“What about you guys, my dad, school!” Laura cried. “I can’t just leave.”

“That’s no excuse. School can wait. We all would have supported that decision. You should have thought this through.” Lafontaine assured her. They stood up and began pacing in front of her.

“Well, good thing you didn’t have to decide,” Laura said, devoid of emotion. “It’s over.”

“This isn’t right.” Lafontaine argued, stopping Laura as she tried to stumble away.

“There isn’t a right answer here.” Laura was exhausted, defeated. She’d done enough for one day. It was time to go back into hibernation.

“Maybe, there doesn’t have to be,” Lafontaine said gently. “Just talk to her.”

“How?” Laura chuckled, weaving around them to break out of the circle. “She doesn’t even have a phone.”

“We’ll go after her, then.”

“I don’t know where she’s headed.”

“We can track her. Perry might know something and I’m excellent with research.” Lafontaine scrambled to throw a plan together that would convince Laura to keep holding on.

“All we need is her license plate number.”

“No, Laf!” Laura snapped. She took a deep breath, calming herself. It wasn’t their fault she was so emotionally turbulent right now. “Just… leave me alone.”

She stormed off, refusing to look back at Lafontaine or the rest of the group.

-

Laura was convinced that Mother Nature was a sentient being with an ironic sense of cruel humor and a specific vendetta against her. She must have talked her personified version of karma and decided she was due for another round of punishment.

Summer had given way to autumn soon after Carmilla left. Nevermind the seasonal patterns, this was a deliberate attack on her well being.

Styria felt colder now that she was gone. The temperature had dropped and Laura felt the bitter frost seeping into her bones the few times she actually left the house to go to school or her job at Sandy Toe’s dinner as their newest part-time buss. The fog that rolled in every night, trailing behind the winds that chilled everything a 15 mile radius of their unknown origins, acted as her only friend (excluding her dad).

She was ignoring her friends and they seemed to have dropped their “persistence” act. There were no apologies, no rants that wasted her cellular data, or even concerned phone calls and impromptu house visits. It was understood that Laura just didn’t want to be bothered.

College and work were good distractions to steer her from the realities of life that were lurking behind her, just waiting to cause her more pain than she felt she could handle. She was doing her best, considering she got her heart smashed into small fragmented pieces and then proceeded to do the same with her girlfriend’s. She felt like a mess, and not even a hot one.

Today was her day off and that meant reverting back to her depressing habits of summer. She had no desire to change out of her pajamas or consume anything but leftover pizza and her trusty chocolate ice cream. A few years ago, Lafontaine had “found” a dvd with multiple Disney movies burned onto it. It was her go-to whenever she was feeling under the weather or too lazy to flip through endless television channels since her dad had refused the piration plan.

She was lying prone on the couch, clutching Carmilla’s shirt in one hand and a lone strip of uneaten pizza crust when Sherman Hollis walked through the door.

“Hey!” Mr. Hollis said in an exaggerate cheerful tone, setting his briefcase and the mail on the table in the foyer. He removed his shoes and hung his coat on the rack before coming around to ruffle Laura’s hair.

“Hey, dad,” she replied, mouth barely moving as she stared at the television screen like a zombie who had just rediscovered consciousness and the fun of animated films. He sat down next to her on the edge of the couch, angled between the television and Laura.

“What’d you do today?” He asked, scrutinizing the mess of half empty cups and trash littering the coffee table that Laura hadn’t cleaned up from her last few days off.

“This,” Laura said, her tone of voice telling just how bored she was.

“Sounds exciting,” Mr. Hollis said, masking his concern with feigned interest.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, well, I’m going to make some dinner,” he said, standing up with a groan. “By the way, there’s something for you in the mail.” Laura made a noise of acknowledgement but went back to her watching.

The smell of tomato sauce wafted throughout the house as she assumed her dad had chosen a pasta dish as tonight’s special. She was a little disappointed that she had already ate because she loved her dad’s spaghetti. It was one of the few recipes he had perfected, or rather, chose not to mess with.

Soon after, the smell intensified and Mr. Hollis came back into the living room balancing two steaming bowls, two perspiring cups, and silverware/napkins sets in his hands. He pushed trash around with his big, sock covered foot to create room for their meals before placing all of the items down.

“What’re we watching?” He asked, settling into the couch.

“Beauty and the Beast,” Laura muttered, sneaking glances at the unattended contents on the table.

“Again?” She nodded her head, attention nowhere focused on her dad.

“Well, it _is_ a classic.” He picked up one of the bowls and dug in.

It was only a matter of minutes before Laura could no longer resist the carb-filled deliciousness calling out to her. She snatched the bowl and began shoveling pasta into her mouth.

Her dad laughed, knowing exactly what to expect from his daughter and warned her to slow down. She gave him a small, closed mouth smile around her food and did as she was told. It lasted another bite until she gave in, picking up speed.

Mr. Hollis would have been extremely worried, what with the choking hazard and all but he was just glad Laura had finally smiled. It was the first he had seen since Carmilla left and to him, that was more important than a potential hazard.

The night dragged on, both of them watching various shows and movies into the night. Eventually, Mr. Hollis retired to bed, leaving Laura alone again. She wasn’t tired but knew it was nearing the time that she should at least attempt to rest.

In the back of her mind, she remembered her dad’s words from earlier. Something had come in the mail, which struck her as odd, because she wasn’t expecting a package, and none of her relatives ever sent cards. It was probably just a random bill or spam mail.

Laura shut off all the electronics, leaving her on the precipice of darkness with kitchen light, her solace. She padded into the foyer, pulling the blanket she had stolen from the couch, tighter around her. She sorted through the pile. Bill. Bill. Spam. Bank Statement. Magazine. Bill.

She was about to disregard the stack in general, when she reached the last piece.

It was a postcard, perfectly laminated and reflecting in the dim light. On the card itself was another seaside town, not much more modern than her own. The scene depicted a rocky cliffside, the ocean stretching out in the horizon. There was a dirt path, worn down by countless shoe marks and lined with a rickety wooden railing. Toward the end of the cliff was an old lighthouse. It’s white paint was yellowing and faded from years of exposure, the red line in the middle standing out. However, the light was still shining just as brightly as it probably had when it was first built. There was a conscious effort on someone’s part to keep sailors alive, though nautical technology these days relied on satellite navigation and sonar.

The other side of the postcard was mostly blank, except for the address line and a single message of loopy scrawl that stretched across the paper in a slanted trail.

_“You would have loved it here, maybe more than I did._

_Carmilla xx”_

Laura ran her fingertips over the lettering, the ink indented and smooth under her touch. She could imagine Carmilla scrambling to find a pen and pressing hard to be sure the message was permanent.

She flipped the card over again, rubbing it between her palms. She could almost smell the slight differences in the ocean where she must be. Another town, not too distance. Breezier, saltier, ancient wood paths and even older sand. There would be people coming and going, taking pictures and losing their belongings as they climb the staircases up to the very top. The view must be be similar to the one on the mountain, just more reserved.

Laura had run out of tears to cry, anger to scream out, and depression to sulk. She had exhausted quite possibly every intense emotion that resides in her body at one point. The only thing she felt when she looked at the card in front of her was yearning.

She missed Carmilla and she wished she was there with her. She knew the decision was done and there was no going back, so she allowed herself to fantasize what the experience would be like if she had said yes.

Good thing there was enough room in her heart without all the other emotions hogging space, because extreme regret was claiming it’s right to exist and didn’t want to share.

That night, before falling into a restless sleep, she clutched onto the paper, hoping that her dreams would be far more pleasant than real life was turning out to be.

-

Life carried on as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Homework began piling up and Laura decided to take more shifts at the diner under the excuse of wanting more money.

No matter how much she tried to take her mind of Carmilla, it was proving impossible because she quite literally wouldn’t leave her alone.

Laura began to calculate that every two weeks or so, a new gift would come in the mail. Each one lacked a return address but was always signed by Carmilla. Sometimes it was simple, like a postcard or a letter with certain stamps that depicted objects, but no location. Other times, it was a small paper package with trinkets inside, souvenirs from the places Carmilla had been.

She had started a collection on her dresser because many of the gifts were too small to sleep with and would often get lost in the dark crevices of her comforter.

She learned her lesson through sleeping with a bronze ring Carmilla had sent (it was on her finger, she swore) which somehow disappeared. She spent 2 hours rifling through her sheets and mattress to have found it on the ground a few inches away, the metal like a beacon in the carpet. How she had missed it, was a mystery to her.

After that incident, she neatly organized each gift Carmilla mailed into rows that she could see from her bed. There was an old national geographic magazine, three postcards, the ring, and a small statue of a bat. The statue was her favorite. It was made out of a deep, brown wood, probably whittled and sanded down to give it a softer complexion.

These objects gave her a sense of peace, knowing that if Carmilla couldn’t be there, she could at least have pieces of her. Of course, trinkets couldn’t stand in for her actual presence but it’s all she had to work with. Her dad said that if it helps her through this, it’s reasonable.

He was the one that really had carried her through. At the beginning of her cycle of mourning, her father had home earlier some nights to simply be there. Almost every night, he sat beside her and the same few movies with her. He would cook her favorite meals and offer words of advice, a few jokes, or even silence. She was extremely grateful for him and his support.

She had reconciled with her friends but refused to go to the hangouts anymore. The last experience had ruined it for her and she still hadn’t recovered. It would take some more time before she was comfortable with going again.

Laura considered all of these developments a positive step in the right direction. Moving on, as Lafontaine had said. She had lost a lot of optimism but forced herself to look ahead. The future could be bright, if she worked hard.

-

As soon as she heard the door slam shut, she ran out of her room and sped down the hall in her socks decorated with Christmas ornaments. She was festive all seasons of the year. She turned the corner, almost tripping but catching herself at the last second.

“Is the mail here!” Laura shouted, skidding to a stop in the kitchen. Mr. Hollis was just about to sit down, the dining room chair pulled out and ready to be occupy. He had a coffee cup in one hand and a newspaper under his arm.

“Sorry, kiddo. Nothing since you asked me,” he paused to check his watch and blow on his drink to cool it off, “an hour ago,” he finished with a sympathetic frown.

Laura’s shoulders fell as she walked across the tile and threw herself into an open seat. Her head hit the table with a dramatic thud.

“How long has it been?”

“About a month. Complete radio silence.” Laura lifted her head so she could lean it against her palm.

“Not even a postcard?” Mr. Hollis opened his newspaper, skimming the headlines. Laura frowned and shook her head.

“I don’t understand,” Laura whined. “Why now? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe she’s busy,” Mr. Hollis offered.

“Hardly. She’s the laziest person I know.” Laura snuck a sip from his cup, promptly burning her tongue. “Fuck! That’s hot!”

“Laura Eileen Hollis! Liquids, hot or cold, are a silent killer! You know better.” Mr. Hollis gave her his signature scold, complete with the angry eyebrows. Laura had the decency to look guilty, sticking her tongue out as if it would some how subdue the burnt, numbing sensation.

“And I’m choosing to ignore your choice words,” He added.

“I’m an adult, let me say fuck,” Laura argued, her words accented with a minimal lisp.

“You may be grown up, but you’ll always be my little girl,” he said sincerely, eyes threatening to mist.

“Dad,” Laura groaned. She stood up, kissing his cheek and walking over to spend an extended amount of time debating her breakfast, lingering with the refrigerator door open. She took out the milk, pouring a bowl of Carmilla’s favorite cereal and joined her dad at the table again.

“I’m sure she’ll come around again,” Mr. Hollis said, catching Laura off guard in mid-bite. Food and the topic of Carmilla did not mesh well. “Whatever the reason, I’m sure it’s justified.”

“An explanation would have been nice,” Laura grumbled, shoving a spoonful forcefully into her mouth, chewing with exaggerated frustration.

“When is Carmilla ever nice?”

“On occasion.” Mr. Hollis hummed in understanding.

“Give her time.”

“How much?” Laura dropped her spoon with a clank.

“As long as it takes,” he sighed. “Love knows no calendars.”

“I don’t think that’s the saying,” Laura chuckled.

“I know, I just made that one up,” Mr. Hollis boasted happily. “It’s good.”

“The giver of sound and humble advice, as usual.” Laura smiled, standing up to clean her dishes in the sink.

“Any plans today?” He folded his paper, his chair screeching against the tile as he pushed it out. He grabbed his cup and headed to where his daughter was.

“I have a shift later,” Laura sighed, scrubbing at another plate stained with crusted pasta sauce. Mr. Hollis reached around, taking the plate and sponge out of her hands.

“I’m proud of you for getting back on your feet and helping around the house, but you should relax today.”

“Thanks,” she said, hugging her dad from the side. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You could have. You’re strong enough on your own,” he smiled.

“But it’s okay to need help, sometimes.”

-

Sandy Toe’s diner was unanimously the busiest and most popular business in their concentrated area of local shops, sitting on the side of their main road.

It was founded around the time Styria itself had been settled, serving loaves of bread and tea to those migrating from continents on the other side of the world. Soon after, it was converted into a bar. As the decades went by, they adapted to the needs of the public and ended up choosing the label of “diner” in the 1970’s and it was decided to be their final change.

The ownership had been passed down through the original founder, Alexandria, and her bloodline, which is where the name comes from; nicknamed her Sandy and because she would run around barefoot in the sand.

Their building had been renovated over the years but still retained their history deep within the architecture. It was a quaint brick building but big enough to hold their largest number of customers at one time. A polished wood counter stretched through the entire back of the restaurant with stools for sitting and other condiments. Part of the counter was converted into a dessert display, perfect for those who want to see all their options before ordering. There were a number of booths lining the outskirts, seats covered in a worn in wool fabric. The walls were covered with pictures of their family and memories from the community events they’ve held.

The current great-great-great-great-great granddaughter, who was coming into old age, still worked behind the counter, serving up items from their now expanded menu of breakfast food options. Her daughter and granddaughter were usually there as well, helping run the place and preparing to take over once the restaurant was passed down.

Both the young and old frequently attended to enjoy their welcoming atmosphere and food sold at adequate prices despite the high quality production. Weekends were considered their rush hours. Earlier in the mornings, the older crowd would start off their day with a hot cup of their finest brew. Later was when the teenagers came, craving some of their famous desserts.

Unfortunately, Laura was stuck was the latter. She would have prefered to clean up after the generally sweet, old people of Styria but she wasn’t able to wake early enough, so rowdy teenagers would do.

She hadn’t officially been working there long, which meant that she was in the lower levels of the food chain, cleaning up garbage and the bathroom, occasionally serving coffee.

Busier nights like these were when she strayed away from the job description, breaking out into actual waitress duties. She just needed to work her way up. Once her training and trial periods were over, she wouldn’t have to load another tray full of half eaten meals and used napkins with questionable contents ever again.

“Laura, cleanup in aisles 3 through 5. Booth 7 needs another round of floats and 10 needs a smoking pot!” Her coworker and the assistant manager, Betty, said as she continued to work the register. Laura wiped the sweat off her brow and brushed back some of her flyaway hairs. It had been a long shift and she felt the affects slowing her body down.

She pushed through the small counter doors, gathering as much excess dishes and trash she could in one swoop across the tables. Once she dropped off her haul in the back for the other buss to discard of, she began the simple task of making another pot of coffee and those requested floats for the same group that had been hogging booth 7 and running up their parent’s fund on a root beer tab. Classic move.

The table let out a collective whoop as she walked over, balancing multiple glasses in her arms and set down the drinks with a slosh. She rolled her eyes, knowing she wasn’t getting a tip tonight.

Walking as quickly as her short legs and aching feet could possible handle, she flew behind the counter once more and snatched the pot of fresh brew, along with a pad of paper to record Booth 10’s order. She wasn’t entirely accustomed to being a waitress and couldn’t remember every single item on their menu, despite the fact that she grew up eating here. It was different when she was the one relaying the information to the cook, rather than ordering with a plastic menu grasped in her tiny hands.

“Welcome to Sandy’s,” Laura said like she was reading off of a script, not sparing the customer a glance as she poured their coffee, “What can I get you today?”

“Cupcake.”

“Sorry, we don’t have…”

_Wait._

She processed the voice, the word and it’s context. The wheels in her brain were turning a bit on the slow side but when her brain caught up, she dropped her pen and paper. Laura’s eyes widened, her head whipping up and her ponytail flying up with the force of her movement.

Staring back at her was none other than Carmilla Karnstein, dressed in her leather jacket, hunched over in her booth like she hadn’t been gone for months, like she hadn’t been ignoring Laura after sending messages in the form of gifts and then crushing her hopes.

“Carm!” Laura gasped out, rushing forward to engulf her in the most awkward hug possible. Laura ended up miscalculating the amount of huggable space and ended up cradling Carmilla’s head in her arms. Carmilla cleared her throat and Laura jolted back, situating herself again at a safer distance.

“Hey,” Carmilla said, the corners of her mouth upturned in a small but genuine smile.

“Hey,” Laura sighed, trying to control the need to flail her hands or attempt another hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed coffee,” Carmilla stuttered, pointed to the mug that was only halfway full of black coffee and had mysterious not overflowed in Laura’s complete shock.

“I meant, what are you doing in Styria?”

Laura couldn’t believe she was real, but the hug had proved her mind incorrect. Carmilla was indeed there, in the flesh. After months of regret and wishing she had one more chance, she got it. There must have been someone on her side, fighting for her happiness in the grand scheme of the universe. She said a silent thank you monologue in her head before returning fully to address the woman waiting.

“Can we talk?” Carmilla asked. She took the mug in her hands, spinning it around and watching the content create ripples against the glass.

“Yeah,” Laura rushed out, flabbergasted. “My shift is over in about an hour if you-”

“I’ll wait until then.”

Laura blushed but managed to do her job of refilling Carmilla’s coffee cup without spilling and left with a quick nod.


	8. You Found Your Way

It was extremely difficult for Laura to go back to work after that.

Trying to serve people was pure agony when every irrational part of her being was dead set on convincing herself to drop what she was doing and get fired, just so she could talk to Carmilla again. It may have been her imagination but she swore she could feel the woman’s eyes watching her during the rest of her shift. She felt herself shaking through normal tasks she could complete with ease, like greeting new customers entering their establishment or handing out menus.

After sixty grueling minutes of staring at a broom or wasting time doing work that really wasn’t productive in the slightest, it was time to clock out.

She ignored everyone else, rushing past them to sign her form and leave it on their boss’s desk. With her apron discarded and her hair released from it’s tie, she lingered around the corner, taking peeks at Carmilla, who looked unamused per usual.

“What are you doing?” Betty asked, causing Laura to jump.

“Geez, Betts, don’t sneak up on me like that!” She yelled, cupping a hand over her own mouth to silence herself. Another quick glance at Carmilla reassured her that she hadn’t noticed, despite the loud commotion.

“I didn’t,” Betty smirked. “You were distracted.”

“Was not,” Laura huffed, eyes still trained on Carmilla’s booth.

“Who is she?” Laura scrambled for an explanation, feeling her face heat up.

“My girlfriend, ex-girlfriend, lover-type person,” she stuttered, ducking down further behind the counter.

“Ew, sounds complicated,” Betty grimaced.

“Kinda.” Laura rolled her eyes.

“Well, quit stalling and go fix it!” she said, pushing Laura out of the safety of her hiding and into the open diner floor. The rest of the patreons remained unconcerned, focused on their own food. Carmilla, however, had noticed her right away, the telltale smirk gracing her lips. Laura shot Betty a panicked scowl over her shoulder and approached booth 10.

“Sit,” Carmilla offered when Laura hesitated near the opposite seat. She slid into the booth, the rough material scratching against her jeans.

Neither of the two said anything for a short time. Carmilla was fiddling with her empty coffee cup, having drank her last refill in a matter of minutes. Laura shoved her hands under her thighs, rocking in a subtle, broken pattern.

“So…” Laura said, the word drawn out in question.

“So…” Carmilla mirrored. “How are-”

“Wait, if we're gonna do this I need something,” Laura interrupted, bolting out from her seat and toward the counter.

She went into the kitchen, grabbing an extra plate and a role of silverware. She made her way to the area behind the counter, scanning the dessert display with precision. She fished a few tip dollars out of her pocket and slammed them down on the wood with a dull thwack, not wanting to run up her tab or fall into another debt. She pried open the glass barrier and took a slice of chocolate cake with her bare hand, breaking their employee guidelines involving sanitation. She plopped it onto the plate haphazardly, closed the case, and strolled back over to Carmilla.

The second she had sat down, she unraveled the cutlery and shoved a huge bite of cake into her mouth.

“Want some?” She said, unaware of the fact that she was talking with unchewed food still lingering in her mouth. She was too nervous to care about the level of etiquette or attractiveness. Carmilla raised her eyebrows and flashed an amused smile, gesturing for Laura to pass the fork. Laura nudged the plate in the middle of the table so both of them have unhindered access to the delicious treat.

Laura was thankful for the distraction of the looming conversation bound to be less than thrilling. They took turns alternating between bites from the fork and maintaining small talk until the cake was gone, a pile of crumbs the sole evidence that it had even existed.

Laura wiped her face clean with a napkin, glancing at Carmilla.

“You’ve got something on your…” Laura pointed to the corner of her mouth, a chunk of chocolate stuck there. Carmilla pawed at her face but missed the spot. Laura giggled, shaking her head as she reached awkwardly over the wide table to wipe the mess off.

Laura held her breath as she closed in on Carmilla, one hand on her cheek and the other, gently brushing the napkin across her face. She felt Carmilla’s gaze burning but she just couldn’t look at her. Laura’s palms buzzed with warmth and she released a sigh, sitting in her seat again.

“Why are you here, Carmilla?” Laura was tired of avoiding the subject, skirting around their problems and unresolved tension. Carmilla was caught off guard but recovered at once, throat bobbing.

“I shouldn’t have left,” she said.

“Carm…” Laura said, a gentle warning tinted with sadness.

“I mean it.” Carmilla’s jaw flexed, her hands clenching on the table. Laura could see the force of her grip was turning them white.

“I knew this was coming,” Carmilla choked out through gritted teeth. “I knew I would have to leave you. I thought that if I ignored the issue, if I just pretend that our situation was different, it would disappear. When that didn’t happen, I had to.”

She inhaled a ragged breath, continuing on.

“I never learned to deal with my problems in a way that didn’t cause people pain. Whenever things turned bad, I just ran. I would force myself to forget. Back home with Maman, Mattie, past relationships, portions of memories forgotten to my own selfishness.”

“What made us different?” Laura asked, stoic and reserved. She tried to come at it from an objective point of view to avoid an outburst.

“This time I… couldn’t leave this, us, _you_ , behind.”

“But you did,” Laura said, her own anger resurfacing through a small crack in her facade. So much for composure.

“You left without a goodbye. You sent gifts in the mail, knowing how hurt I must have been, and then stopped without warning.”

Carmilla winced at her harsh tone. Laura took a deep breath, building a metaphorical blockage from the old emotions of hurt rushing in. There would always be a twinge residing deep in her heart, reminding her of the pain. What both of them had said, how the night progressed had been unacceptable, but that was in the past, as far as Laura was concerned. She was here now.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out,” Laura sighed. It didn’t give her release to take out her frustrations in a verbal attack, just pushed her further into the trench of guilt. Time had healed her enough to forgive.

“I think I deserve it,” Carmilla replied, meek and sinking into the cushions. It seemed as though she had accepted the blame and Laura’s subsequent judgement. She wasn’t going to allow her to slink back and offer herself up as a scapegoat.

“You don’t.” Laura laid her own hand on top of her tangled ones. The moment their hands touched, Carmilla released the tension and relaxed under Laura’s soothing fingertips which were moving back and forth on the rough surface of her skin.

“I was upset for a long time,” Laura tilted her head in thought, “Until I fostered some peace.”

“Laura Hollis, peaceful? Never thought I’d see it.” Carmilla chuckled but it was strained, lacking humor. She shifted to remove her hands but Laura gripped tighter, soft gaze holding firm. Carmilla exhaled, flipping her palms to face upward under Laura’s touch. She began tracing patterns along the lines found there.

“Why?” Carmilla mumbled, “Why forgive me?”

“You weren't the only one who made mistakes that night,” Laura admitted. “And I-” She cut herself off. It wasn’t the right time for a proclamation of the feelings she had been harboring since her and Carmilla had become close.

“I understand and take blame, too.” Laura sighed, reassuring her as best she could.

“Like the great Sherman Hollis said, you can’t spell communication without u and i,” Laura chuckled. Carmilla shook her head, a genuine laugh erupting from her this time.

“The offer still stands.” Carmilla whispered, her abrupt confession deafening in her ears. Laura stilled her movements, staring holes into the discarded plate off to the side.

“I need time.”

“I can give it to you,” Carmilla said, her resolve strong but voice tender with understanding.

“I don't want to hold you back,” Laura shook her head, flashes of the last incident circulating through her mind. Carmilla shook her head too, leaning forward and grasping Laura’s hands tightly in hers.

“You won’t be,” Carmilla smiled. “Besides, the ocean is calling to me. I didn’t see enough the first visit.” Laura returned the sentiment, a grin plastered across her face that wasn’t going to leave for the rest of the night.

-

It was well into the evening by the time Laura had petalled, as quickly as she could, back home.

She and Carmilla ending up talking at the diner past closing, for longer than she anticipated. It was… unexpectedly nice. After the initial topic and tension was addressed, it seemed to have cleared the air between them for now. The banter and teasing resumed, but there was a barrier neither were comfortable to cross due to the freshness of their reconciliation.

Carmilla painted vivid pictures of her travels in the short period she was gone and the adventures she’d managed to have. She couldn’t fathom the degree of weirdness and trouble this woman found herself in, no matter the setting.

Upon parting for the evening, both agreed it would be best to maintain space and refrain from hanging out while Laura pondered her decision, which excluded Carmilla giving her a ride home.

It was Laura who had recommended this and Carmilla was more than willing to go along. She had a hunch that it would be particularly hard for her to give an unbiased answer with the other woman around. Not that Carmilla would try to convince her using devious tactics, it was just a precautionary measure.

Laura opened the front door with a slow push. She didn’t want to wake her father or alarm him with her abrupt entrance. The interior of the house was dark except for the kitchen light, which cast a tall shadow into the hall.

Without thinking the scenario through, Laura let go of the door and the wind took control, shutting it with a loud click. There was a scuffling noise in the kitchen and the shadow moved closer.

Another light was flicked on, illuminating the hall and blinding Laura with the sudden change.

“Where were you, Laura! You didn't answer you phone!”

Mr. Hollis stood there, hands on his hips and disapproval radiating off of him.

“I was with Carmilla,” Laura blurted out. “She came back.” Laura smiled a watery smile, shrugging. Her dad’s anger seemed to dissipate fractionally as he rushed forward to engulf Laura in a bear hug. He swung her back and forth, her legs hovering above the ground and swinging with every movement.

“Oh kiddo, that's wonderful!” He released her but kept her close, holding onto her shoulders.   
“What does she want? Do I need to give her a stern talking to? A good ol’ Hollis beatdown?” Laura laughed, shaking her head.

“No, dad. I think we should sit.”

“You’re not off the hook for ignoring my calls,” Mr. Hollis scolded, trailing behind Laura into the living room.

Laura vaulted onto the couch with a huge sigh, discarding her shoes and wiggling her cramped toes. Mr. Hollis watched as his daughter got comfortable, waiting for her to initiate conversation. There was something she wasn’t telling him, he sensed it the moment he saw her face. The expression hadn’t left.

“Please listen before you say anything,” Laura pleaded. Mr. Hollis was one to jump to conclusions and cut her off before the full tale was uncovered. He nodded, hands folded in his lap and his mouth closed tight to show he was willing to listen first.

“Before Carmilla left, she and I got into a fight. She asked me to leave with her and I hardcore freaked out,” Laura said, fidgeting in her spot. “She came back to apologize and give the whole idea another chance.” She rushed the last part out and closed her eyes, wanting to get it into the open quick.

“Are you done?” Mr. Hollis asked. Laura breathed out and opened her eyes.

“Yes.”

“I was expecting more of a rant,” he chuckled and Laura scowled playfully at him. He cleared his throat, scratching his head.

“I see. And how do you feel about that?” Laura took another deep breath.

“What she does, it's my dream to do,” Laura admitted. She congratulated herself in her head for getting through that sentence without stuttering. “It has been, for such a long time.” Mr. Hollis nodded, shifting to face Laura more.

“Do you remember the day I brought you here to Styria?”

“Vaguely,” Laura replied, a little lost. “What does that have to do with me leaving?”

“At that age, you were so fascinated by the world around you. I thought that you would grow out of it, or at least grow, but you never did.” Laura pushed her dad’s shoulder in a joking gesture.

“I was happy that you were getting out there, pretending to be explorers with your friends and daydreaming about the world. It was a great part of seeing you grow up,” he sighed, “but it also terrified me.” Laura frowned.

“I've seen the world, Laura, I know what's out there. It's incredible dangerous and unforgiving,” He said, a fire ignited from his personal memories.

“Our fight at the end of your senior year in high school was the first culmination of that fear. I finally admitted to myself that I couldn’t protect you from everything, that I would just have to accept it.”

“I’m scared too, dad.” Laura sniffed.

“I know.” He sighed, pulling Laura into an embrace.

“I need to do this.”

“I know, I was hoping the day I had to give you up would be much later than this.” He squeezed her a little tighter and Laura pretended to struggled out of the hug.

“So, is this your weird, paternal way of granting me permission?” Laura wiped at her face, leaning back.

“You've never taken it into consideration before, but yes.” They both laughed at this. It was true; if Laura was determined to do something, her dad’s opinion was often invalidated.

“So what's the plan?” He asked. Laura grimaced with guilt.

“Didn't get that far.”

“You’ll figure it out.” He kissed her forehead. “You always do.”

-

Laura had an irrational thought that her alcove was discovered and somehow covered up with sand or a wall of rock that would block her from resting there. She hadn’t come to her spot in a few months and she wasn’t sure what would be waiting for her upon returning.

She sighed a hitched breath of relief when she was almost to the bottom of the jagged cliff. She saw the opening still wide and full of open sand for her to pace around on.

She kicked her shoes off in a violent flick, leaving them near the path so she could keep track of where she was able to climb up. If she ever did decide to leave seclusion and face her choices.

It’s not that Laura wasn’t relieved, she was. Her dad had taken the whole conversation far better than he would have even just a few months ago and Carmilla, she was still having a hard time processing that she came back. (On the trip over here, she saw Billie parked in the spot that was practically Carmilla’s now, carving divots into the once diluted sand. The sight alone made her smile). Along with the feeling of freedom and authority of her own life, the stress was rolling in at a pace that matched that relief.

The decision had been made regarding Carmilla and her offer, but all the little details and aspects of her life that would be affected by this change, needed to be worked out.

Her job had provided her a small amount of savings but it wasn’t nearly enough to hold her for months with no means of income. She was enrolled in college, so she would have to drop out, which brought on another bout of shame, eating at all the expectations she had set for herself right out of high school. And then there was the act of saying goodbye to everyone she had grown up with, including her loving father.

On top of all that, the whole process of sorting and packing up her stuff to travel around the country without a strict plan was exactly as daunting as it sounded. Laura wasn’t feeling as brave as Carmilla appeared, but then again, she was far more experienced and accustomed to the life of a drifter.

Deep down, this was truly what she wanted. The doubts were there, talking her mind into subconscious insanity, but she was strong and didn’t let them override her desires.

She apparently hadn’t earned a break from the constant over thinking and planning, so she allowed herself a relaxing moment away to try and quiet those voices.

The afternoon was one of her favorite times of day. The wind would become more forceful and the waves would crash into the shore with harsh strokes; she loved the sound these two made together, like a beautiful symphony directed by Mother Nature herself, whom she probably owed an apology for wishing her illwill, along with her other associates.

Laura stood in the entrance of the alcove, scanning over the cracks and sharp edges sticking out of the rock walls. It reminded her of all the times she had come here in the past, distressed and looking for some peace. Without fail, she left feeling at least a little better than she when she first arrived. She hoped that would be the case again.

She sat down in the middle of the space toward the entrance, facing the shore. She stretched her legs out in front of her and her hands propted her up to maintain a great view of the ocean. She didn’t care that the wet sand would coat her hands and sweatpants, it was worth it just to experience pure nature.

Laura didn’t bring her phone or even a watch to be aware of the passing time; she wanted to give herself total freedom to take as much time as she needed.

Clouds began moving in with the wind. They weren’t stormy, just choosing to occupy the sky in a thick blanket. She couldn’t see the sun from her position but imagined it was about to meet the horizon. The hues were familiar and welcomed, rather than boring.

“Laura!” Carmilla sighed in what sounded like exhaustion. “It took me forever to find you! No one knew where you where.” She moved inside the alcove with a grumble, pausing to examine the natural marvel engulfing Laura.

“That's the point,” Laura said. “How'd you find me?”

“Your bike, and then your shoes.” Laura exhaled, then hummed. Carmilla shoved her hands into her pockets, hesitating off to the side.

“I know we're supposed to give each other space but... I just wanted to check up.” She mumbled out the last part, ducking her head.

“That's pretty gay,” Laura sighed. She flashed a small smile at Carmilla, who let out a laugh. It was bright but twinged with an undertone of nervousness. She strolled inside and sat down next to her but left an acceptable few inches in between their hips.

“How’d it go with your dad?” Carmilla asked, fiddling with the creases in her leather pants. If Laura wasn’t so relaxed, she would comment on what an inappropriate choice wearing leather to the beach was.

“He took it really well, actually,” Laura said nonchalantly, Carmilla’s eyebrows rising in shock.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Laura continued to stare off at the horizon, still replaying this week's events in her mind. Carmilla could sense Laura’s need for silence and respected it, not attempting to introduce a new topic. She began counting waves and estimating their distance from the shore to the alcove entrance.

Suddenly, Laura broke the silence and she lost count.

“That star thing was stupid,” Laura scoffed, shaking her head at the silliness of her idea.

“I thought so too,” Carmilla smirked, eliciting a glare from Laura. “Until I was in that open field again.”

“The one on the way to the mountain?”

“Mhm,” she nodded. “Ironically, I had to travel back to move forward. I was heading to another town and that’s the route my map gave me.”

“When I got there, I decided on a whim to stop and stargaze.” Laura glanced at Carmilla. Her shoulders were hunched and there were bags under her eyes. She looked tired, almost defeated. She wondered if she looked that way to Carmilla, like a mirror reflecting back.

“After what happened, I was hurt.” Laura nodded. She hadn’t intended to cause so much pain but that didn’t excuse her actions. Here, Carmilla telling her without sugar-coating it and that had a different effect.

“It felt like trying to navigate somewhere new without a map. It wasn’t impossible, just difficult. I felt so lost, and if I’m being honest, miserable without you. But I was also stubborn and didn’t expect to come back. When I looked up and saw that stupid star, still burning and stuck in the universe as if nothing had changed… I felt like there was hope.”

“That’s when I knew I was wrong,” Carmilla sniffed, tears threatening to spill. Laura could feel her own sobs building at the back of her throat. It was painful, watching Carmilla’s reaction. Her arms twitched, wanting to envelope her in a hug or provide comfort. She wasn’t sure if that was allowed, so she settled for shifting closer. She sat on her knees, legs tucked under her and palms clenched on her thighs. “What we had, hadn’t been exhausted. I needed to try again and make this right.”

She didn’t know how to respond to Carmilla. She was so overcome with emotion, words brushing the surface of her tongue but not quite getting farther than there. She had so much to tell her, but there didn’t seem to be a right time.

“I’m so glad you came back.” Laura struggled to speak through her watery smile.

“Me too,” Carmilla smiled back, gaze roaming her face. Laura shivered and refocused.

“When you asked me to come with you, I wasn’t mad. I wasn't frustrated or appalled, I was terrified.” Laura’s voice broke but rushed to pull herself together. Carmilla face contorted, tears falling with a new sense of freedom and vulnerability. Her heart skipped a beat.

“You were laying my entire future out in front of me that I wanted so much. But I couldn’t say yes. I was paralyzed with fear.” She paused to wipe her eyes, a small sob escaping her lips. Carmilla held out a hand and Laura took it swiftly, interlocking their fingers in a tight grip.

“I had all these hopes and dreams and part of me was rejoicing because I had finally done it. I had figured out what I wanted and actually had the opportunity to grasp it. The other part of me was determined to be destructive. All I could hear was an endless loop, proving me wrong, shattering those dreams in a second.”

“Because the truth is, you cracked my heart open and tore holes in everything I thought I knew about myself. I wouldn’t change it for anything,” She reassured Carmilla, who had stopped crying, and squeezed her hand.

“I made excuses because I didn’t want to leave my comfortable bubble in this little town, safe from all the big bad things out there. But it turns out, you leaving felt way worse than the fear of me facing the world.” Both of them were sobbing now, unable to hold back.

“I’m so sorry, Laura,” Carmilla sobbed, pressing both palms into her face. Laura pried them away and tugged, pulling her into her lap. Usually Carmilla was the one to comfort her but she deserved a moment to herself and and her expression. She fiddled with Carmilla’s hair, her fingers brushing through the unkempt knots.

“It’s okay. Almost losing you allowed me to understand something.” Carmilla leaned back, her intense brown pupils glossy.

"How I feel about you isn’t some summer fling in the heat of the moment or a seasonal occurrence. The moment you stepped into my world, it wasn’t just mine anymore.”

“I love you,” Laura whispered.

She felt like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs as the atmosphere halted around them. She couldn’t hear the crashing of the waves or the wind as it collided with the outside of the cliff. Instead, her ears were filled with the sound of their combined breathing and the hammer of her heart. Underneath her palm, she could feel Carmilla’s own beating out a rapid melody, syncing with the rhythm of her own.

She hadn’t planned beforehand to make such a bold confession but the phrase had been popping into her head throughout the afternoon. She meant it wholeheartedly and her body sung at release of those special words.

“I love you, too,” Carmilla said, jumping forward to kiss Laura fervently. Their lips moved together in a passionate dance for several moments before both parted, heaving from lack of air.

“This time, I won’t let you leave without me,” Laura said. Carmilla exhaled, a genuine smile painting her face in the brightest colors Laura had ever seen. Even if their situation was complicated and brimming with risk, she knew it would end up alright.

She could face anything, so long as Carmilla was there.


	9. What the Universe Bestowed

“Please?”

“No.”

“Carm.”

“Laura, no. You can’t bring every piece of clothing you own,” Carmilla huffed.

“They won’t take up that much space!”

Laura was determined to convince her girlfriend that it was worth it to include her duck pajamas in the small selection of clothes she would take with on their trip. Today’s choice of weaponry was a growing pout and a foot stomp, if all hope was lost.

Carmilla and Mr. Hollis had been helping her sort through the belongings in her room and pack up. There wasn’t much to contemplate, she could only afford to take the essentials like a few pairs of clothes, toiletries, and special non-essential items she couldn’t part with.

Regardless, there was work to be done and though she had two other people “on the job”, most of the labor fell onto her. Her dad had gotten distracted, rediscovering the scrapbooks from her childhood that had been hidden in the top right corner of her closest and was now sitting on the bed, quite literally flipping down memory lane. Carmilla was proving to be no help at all. She was more interested in teasing Laura and making the whole process more difficult; this argument was no different.

“Who needs pajamas when you can sleep naked and undisturbed,” Carmilla smirked, shrugging as if the concept of Mr. Hollis overhearing suggestive things between them wasn’t a bother.

“Carmilla!” Laura whispered through clenched teeth, pointing a stealthy finger toward her bed, conscious of her dad’s hearing range and possible eavesdropping. “Not appropriate.”

“Oh,” Carmilla quirked a brow. “That’s not what you said last time we-” Laura acted fast, quieting her with a quick peck on the lips. She realized a more persuasive approach to bribing Carmilla is what worked best. An idea popped into her head and she leaned forward again, whispering a few suggestive words of her own into Carmilla’s ear. Her girlfriend’s mouth fell open and a flush began creeping up her face. Laura pretended to be innocent, smiling and tossing her pajamas, which she was going to bring, in the box labeled “take”.

“Carmilla, come here,” Mr. Hollis said, waving her over. Laura sighed in relief when he provided no allusion to their previous exchange.

Carmilla cleared her throat, schooled her face back to normal, and strode across the room to peer over his shoulder, looking at whatever he wanted to show her. Laura was grateful for the time alone, where she could sort in peace without Carmilla’s contradictions about what was valuable and sass regarding her fashion sense. Laura was very fashionable and capable of making smart choices, thank you very much.

“This was Laura’s first Halloween as a teenager,” Mr. Hollis said fondly and Laura’s eyes bulged. She remembered that picture all too well. A dress cut out of her own black sheets. Knee high stockings and brown loafers. Hair she had teased into a scraggly nest on her head to emulate voluptuous hair. A butter knife in her hand, a fierce snarl as she acted for the camera. She tried not to panic.

“She insisted on being Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I couldn’t find a costume at the store so Laura tried to make one herself!” Carmilla chuckled, about to comment on her appearance or make fun of her, no doubt, but Laura had had enough of them bonding over her ridiculous childhood photographs.

“Alright, I think it’s time we… uh…” Laura paused, floundering for an excuse. “Move the boxes to Carmilla’s van!” She stretched her arm over his other shoulder, blindly swinging her hand in hopes that it would catch a part of the picture and she could stop them from gawking.

“You’re right,” Mr. Hollis sighed, replacing the photo he was holding. He collected the pile of scrapbooks and stacked them on her nightstand. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a word with my daughter.”

“I’ll be with Billie,” Carmilla nodded, grabbing another box that had been filled with trinkets and heading down the hall.

“Billie?”

“That’s the van’s name,” Laura clarified.

“Oh! That reminds me of the first car I had-” Mr. Hollis started, about to go divulge another tale that Laura had heard several times on other occasions.

“Dad,” Laura interrupted, wanting to rein him in without being impolite. “What did you want to talk to me about?” She sat down on the end of the bed, narrowly avoiding the scrapbooks as they bounced with the change in weight.

“I just wanted to remind you how proud I am,” he said. His voice was rough with hidden emotion and Laura felt her heart squeeze.

“Thanks,” Laura smiled and forced the the lump in her throat down.

“I’ll admit, it’s hard letting you go. But it must be hard for you, too.” Laura slid over and climbed onto his back, engulfing him in her own version of a bear hug.

“Chasing your dreams takes fearlessness. I don’t know where you got those traits because I certainly didn’t pass them down.” He chuckled, patting the arms nuzzled around him.

“Even if you were overprotective, I still learned a lot about courage from you,” Laura said, moving to sit beside him. “You were always unapologetically my dad, no matter what some people had to say about our situation.”

“That’s true!” Mr. Hollis chirped with enthusiasm, “We never let them tarnish the Hollis name!” He stood up, moving to linger in the threshold of her room.

“Well, I’m going to see if Carmilla needs assistance out there,” he said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll give you a moment to collect your last belongings. Love you!”

“You too!” Laura said to his retreating form.

“By the way, don’t touch the Lord of the Rings collection,” he called from the living room as an afterthought, “those are mine!” Laura giggled, shaking her head at his goofiness.

Now that she was alone, she took one last look at her room. This wasn’t the last time she would be sleeping here, but the act of cleaning and sorting had really solidified that this change was in progress.

She reclined against the headboard, scanning from wall to wall, trying to memorize every crack, poster, or trinket she was leaving behind. Most of her things remained in their rightful places. No one would be able to tell that anything was different, but to Laura, there was a radiating echo of emptiness.

She felt as though a portion of memories had been removed, but they weren’t gone. They would be with her as she travelled to who-knows-where with Carmilla. Her room had just been a vessel for them.

She remembered the amazing times she had made with her friends, revolving around this little sanctuary she called her own; adventures, like the time she and Lafontaine tried to construct their own boat that would sail them across the world or when their group of friends snuck out to buy food at Sandy Toe’s, only to sneak back in and eat it here.

She would hold them close to her heart, regardless if she had the physical representations of those memories or not.

Laura didn’t want to keep them Carmilla waiting for too long, so she did a final round of checking for last minute necessities.

She peeked into her dresser draws, skimming through the clothing. She grabbed an extra pair of underwear for good measure, shoving it into her shorts pocket. She reviewed her bookshelf, seeing if there were any titles that stuck out to her but there were none that she hadn’t already packed yet. She dropped to her knees, peeking under the bed. She pulled out an old stuffed animal that she had forgotten was there in the first place.

As a final thought, she decided to riffled through her bedside table, which was filled with old diaries and art materials. As she shuffled the contents around, she noticed a white corner of something sticking out from under her middle school yearbook. She pried the yearbook out of it’s spot and uncovered a folded up enveloped, crumpled under the junk.

The one that Carmilla had left for her when she left, but never opened.

Laura hands shook as she delicately opened the flap. A single scrap of paper fell out, floating back and forth until it landed facedown on the carpet. She could tell there was a message but the font was too small to read from that far below.

_Woman up and grab the damn paper!_

When she finally placed the paper in her hands, she could feel the texture rubbing against her palm. From this close, the handwriting was perfectly clear, cutting through the small white square like rolling hills. The lines seemed to be part of a poem, taken from a whole, but Laura had never heard before.

_“And I could not escape what the Universe bestowed me._   
_In collaboration with Fate she chose,_   
_Life in destined, changing prose,_   
_An adventure that demanded me.”_

She was struck with the stanza’s beautiful phrasing. All her emotions culminating and bursting in this moment when she turned the polaroid over.

Staring back at her was a kaleidoscope of different colors and contrasting images.

It was a candid from their time on Mount. Lustig, which Carmilla must have snapped without her knowledge. She could recall the exact instance the photo had been taken.

Laura stood there, her back to the camera. It was after their waltzing and she had needed break after all the hardwork of learning choreographed sequences. She leaned against the railing of the gazebo, staring off into the expanse of the forest in front of her. The green of the trees stuck out, the dull blue of the old wood structure accenting their shapes. Light was poking through the thick brush, dotting the lens with rings of flare.

At first glance, she thought it was a little ridiculous that Carmilla had taken the picture in a moment where she was so vulnerable and tired, hair askew and dirt covering random patches covering her skin. But the longer she stared, the more she saw the beauty in the candidness of when it was taken. She was grateful that those feelings of freedom and peace had been somehow captured and preserved, that Carmilla was inclined enough to take it and give it to her.

If she had opened the envelope earlier, it would have stung. But now, it was a symbol of hope, of their future.

She lingered for a few moments before shoving it into her back pocket, curious as to what trouble her girlfriend and dad had stirred up.

-

This game was getting on her nerves. And she had a lot of those tonight.

Due to the sheer number of times the group had met for these hangouts and their affinity for alcohol related games as a bonding pastime, they had run out of activities. However, the lack of entertainment didn’t last long, because they were a creative group of people with a strong sense of imagination. Since the previous competitions had lost their luster, they made up their own complete with serious sets of rules.

Some of them were literal genius, but not all of them. Some of the suggested games, for lack of a more elaborate term, sucked.

This new one had to be the worst of them all, in Laura’s experienced opinion.

It was similar to the game of Jenga, except not. Lafontaine insisted it had no affiliation or relation to the trademark.

It involved two stacks of rocks from the beach, teams of two, and lots of alcohol. Each team placed a rock down as their base and took turns adding more. The team to build their tower the highest without it collapsing was the winner. The losers had to take a shot and the game started over, continuing for an undetermined amount of rounds. It wasn’t the most thrilling competition but it proved to inebriate the participants quicker than other games.

They had circulated through at least six rounds (Laura stopped counting after the third) and it was passed her limit.

If she had to hear one more cringeworthy clash of sedimentary, she was going to Naruto run straight into the ocean and offer herself up to the water gods. Floating in the ocean with a number of threats and dangerous beasts would be more enjoyable than this.

“Shit,” Lafontaine exclaimed as their stack, a couple rocks high, tipped over. Their dull thud into the sand below reflected how Laura felt inside.

Laura chugged her “punishment” shot, the liquid courage scorching the length of her throat on it’s path down. She needed it if she was going to go through with this. She rolled her shoulders and shook her arms to expel some of the nervous energy that was accumulating inside. She convinced herself the sooner the better, because if not, she might spontaneously combust.

Lafontaine called for a break period, wanting to practice their stacking. No one argued, feeling content and comfortably buzzed. While Lafontaine began setting up their tower, Laura raised her voice over the chatter.

“I have something to tell you guys.” Laura tried to project her voice, but every syllable that came from her loose mouth felt weak.

“You’re a lesbian?” Lafontaine guessed, sarcasm evident.

“I came out years ago,” Laura huffed.

“You’re pregnant with a gothic dhampir infant,” Lafontaine continued. Their pile of rocks fell over and they began the task of balancing them once more. Danny gasped, both horrified and concerned at their suggestion.

“Carmilla’s not- we don’t…” Laura stammered, “No!”

“I mean, have you seen her? Considering all the traveling does, her complexion is suspiciously fair and the length of her canines are-”

“Lafontaine!” Perry scolded.

“I’m just hypothesizing,” Laf defended.

“Well, do it at someone else’s expense, Mad Scientist,” Danny cut in.

“Vampires and supernatural creatures of the like do not exist,” Perry said, unwavering in her statement.

“Not that we know of. Reactions like that are what deter them,” Lafontaine mumbled.

“You’re eloping,” Mel rasped out with a smug smile.

Laura avoided looking at the group, chewing on her lip. Eloping wasn’t the right word but it was close enough. Now that the topic had been introduced, she couldn’t ignore it or lie her way out of this one. She was terrible at morphing the truth and she doubted that her friends would let go of the joke, continuing to stretch it out and tease her if she didn’t set the record straight. Reverse pun intended. Her record was 100% gay. Then again, she wouldn’t be here to correct them.

“You’re eloping!” Danny gasped again, pinching the bridge of her nose when Laura’s pause had drawn out for too long.

“Not exactly?” Laura shrugged, sounding unsure of her own confession.

“She hesitated,” Kirsch whispered to Will. They weren’t an active part of the conversation but close enough to be considered involved. The speculation was a given.

“Well, what would be similar to eloping, but not entirely?” Danny inquired to the group as a whole, searching for a reasonable answer that could explain what Laura meant.

“I’m leaving with my girlfriend, Carmilla.” Laura stood her ground with a stern voice, despite her wavering confidence and the blush on her face. “We’re going to travel together.”

The whole group broke out in a myriad of reactions. Danny immediately began pacing, running a hand through her hair each turn. Lafontaine knocked over their tower again, the pieces flying in different directions with the force of their physical shock. Perry had a small smile on her face, offering Laura a look that was both proud and pleased. Kirsch and Will high-fived as predicted, except Kirsch was the first to realize that meant Laura would no longer be around. His face warped into sadness the more he thought about it. Mel took a sip of her drink, stilling looking just as smug as when she had guessed right.

“What about college?” Danny frantically asked.

“I already dropped out,” Laura said. “The credits will be there when I come back.”

“And how will you support yourself? Can’t you see that it’s completely unrealistic and idiotic to do something as reckless as this!” Danny argued and Laura glowered, mood momentarily souring. Her decision wasn’t up for debate, but she would have appreciated more support from her, putting her pervasive concerns on hold.

“Stop being such a worry wart, Danny. Laura will be fine,” Lafontaine interrupted, acting to diffuse her exaggerated reaction. Their words seemed to snap her out of her rant and she retracted, sitting down on the nearest log to gather herself. Laura calmed down as well, thankful that they were sticking up for her without causing a big scene.

“We’re proud of you, frosh,” Lafontaine said, their tone light but face, solemn.

“I’m gonna miss you, little nerd.” Kirsch wore a big frown, looking as though he was fighting back tears. She had never seen him this affected.

“I’ll visit often,” Laura said, reassuring him. He seemed to accept the answer and tried his best to resume smiling.

“When are you leaving?” Mel asked, addressing their collective curiosity.

“Tomorrow morning.” A silence veiled the group, each member processing the information. The cracking of fire filled the air, another plum of smoke billowing toward the clouds. Laura followed it, watching as it dissipated in the air.

Lafontaine suddenly raised their beer bottle high above their head.

“To Laura!”

Their action was a catalyst for everyone else to hold up their drinks in a toast. A sea of bottles and cups, full of various drinks, rose in unison.

“To Laura,” everyone repeated, the chorus echoing deep into the night. They tipped back, drinking in her honor. For what seemed like the millionth time that week, she could feel tears gathering but ignored them in favor of looking at everyone.

Her father wasn’t the only family she would be leaving behind.

These people had been with her all along, supporting her, making her laugh, taking her on her first adventures. Without them, she wouldn’t have discovered her love for the world and the kindness of people.

There had been some rough moments throughout her life. Coming to terms with her adoption, the fall out with her dad, the transition from middle to high school and specifically, when she came out as gay.

Being in a small town, she received a lot of silent judgement from members of the community. No one outright bullied or assaulted her, but she could tell from their stares and that it wasn’t welcomed.

With the passing of time and the opening of minds, people became more relaxed about the concept but it had taken her a long time to recover from that; to learn that their opinions weren’t any of her business and that they didn’t matter, to go out in public and disregard the people who tried to engage with her in a negative lecture about her sexuality.

However, no one in their group had faltered or treated her with anything but respect. It was mostly because all of them were queer in one sense or another. Still, it had meant the world to her then, and it still did now. They protected her and loved her when it felt like the universe didn’t.

She would miss these goofs with her whole heart, but knowing she would see then again, eased the ache in her chest.

“Now that that mushy stuff is over, who’s ready to get their ass kicked!” Lafontaine shouted, switching the tone of the night back to it’s original mood and resuming their shenanigans.

Laura would just have to suffer through more rounds, but it wasn’t so bad. Why did it matter what she was doing, when she was surrounded by people she loved?

-

Laura woke to the obnoxious chirping of her bedside alarm. She groaned, flipping over onto her stomach and buried herself in her blankets in hopes that it would drown out the noise. Her head felt like it was weighed down with a thousand tons of water and her limbs were stiff.

Last night had been a little wild and she was surprised she had slept at all. She didn’t come home until far past curfew, having spent the night reminiscing about the past and drinking until she felt warm and much more relaxed than usual. It wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but it had ceased the nerves she was feeling.

However, when she had gotten home, most of the alcohol effects had worn off. Her heart was full of hope and her stomach fluttered with excited butterflies. She just accepted the fact that sleep wouldn’t come because there was too much on her mind.

To her relief, she had gotten a few hours of deep sleep and that would have to be enough.

She stuck her arm out of her literal safety blanket and into the dark, cold atmosphere of her room. She slammed a fist down on the snooze button and began to doze off again.

It took a few moments for her brain to catch up with the date and what this morning meant, but when the thoughts of a certain brunette, waiting for her close to the horizon, she shot up faster than a lightning bolt.

She brushed the bedhead out of her face and turned off the alarm. The clock read 5 am and it transported her back to the morning Carmilla had snuck up to her window, asking if she wanted to go on a road trip.

It was that moment all over again, except this time, the trip would be much longer.

Laura’s smiled to herself and attempted to hold onto some semblance of calm. She didn’t want to wake her father up but the jitters were overriding her exhaustion and making it difficult to contain herself. She was just so eager to start what felt like the beginning of her life.

She hopped out of bed and sprung into action, forgetting to turn on the lights. She dug through a pile of clothes, throwing on whatever her hands grabbed like she was aiming for a new world record. She tripped down the hall, one leg in the hole of her shorts and the other still dangling out and looking for a path to get inside.

She made a pit stop in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and fixing her appearance so that she looked a little more presentable and not as though she had just woken up in a rush. She collected the leftover toiletries she hadn’t yet dropped in Carmilla’s van and careened around the threshold toward the living room. She all but burned skid marks into the carpet as she sped to the kitchen, belongings stuffed under her arms.

In her haste, she failed to see Mr. Hollis sitting at the table, just like the other morning in the Hollis Household.

“Dad!” Laura exclaimed. The whole neighborhood and possibly the world was now awake at the volume of her words.

“There she is!” He said, rushing forward and enveloping her in his usual bear hug. “My little girl is finally graduating to almost big girl!”

“Dad!” she chided, “I’m grown up now.”

“Well, that’s debatable,” he laughed, setting her down.

“What’re you doing up so early?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He smiled and Laura mirrored it, giving her dad another squeeze.

“How are you feeling? Do you need anything more or are you all packed up? I could make breakfast or fast-track another supply of bear spray?” Mr. Hollis rattled on, looking upward as if he was reading off an imaginary list.

“I’m fine. I feel great,” Laura assured him.

“Good.” He nodded, grasping her shoulder.

“I uh- have to go now,” Laura said with a hesitant stutter.

“Right,” Mr. Hollis sighed. He pulled her into another hug. He leaned down, planting a kiss on her head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she mumbled into his shirt.

Once their final farewells had been said, both of them walked to the foyer. Laura dumped her belongings into her bag, slipped on her shoes, and chose one snapback.

“You’re gonna do great out there, kiddo. I just know it.” He said, “Just don’t forget about us.”

“I won’t,” Laura smiled, watery and wistful. She opened the door, passing back her copy of their house key to him.

“Keep it, for when you come back,” He said. Laura nodded, stepping out the door.

She turned around, taking one last look at her house. The sun had not yet risen, the exterior bathed in pre-dawn essence. Her dad was merely a silhouette as he watched her from inside, framed by the light illuminating their house.

Her mind flashed back to three years old, standing in the front yard, wide-eyed and amazed by the new house she would be living in. It had seemed so big and new then, but time had passed and she had grown. She was older now, with much more experience. She could locate the cracked paint, faded with age, the splintering wood and dead leaves.

She waved to him, deciding it was best if she left before she felt frozen with fear and nostalgia. With a deep breath, her feet carried her to the sidewalk. She strolled down the dim street, pointed forward to a new chapter in her life.

-

Laura had a bit of time until she was supposed to meet Carmilla on the beach, so she walked into town with the purpose of ordering them some to-go coffees and sight see for the last time.

Laura was fascinated with her and Carmilla’s contrast of behavior and habits, but one she found herself constantly stuck on was their choice in coffee. They both preferred the standard brew, except Laura loved her coffee super sweet, whereas Carmilla did not. She didn’t drink it completely black, though she loved to tell people so. It helped her maintain her “badass reputation” which Carmilla didn’t actually possess because she didn’t live anywhere long enough to build one.

There was at least one lump or spoonful of sugar in there and Laura knew, because she had gotten them coffee more times than her girlfriend had. Laura would never forget the moment she had brought Carmilla her first strict black brew, per her request. The face she made, gulping the bitter liquid down was both hilarious and sad to watch. She was unwavering and refused to toss the cup, chugging until it was gone.

Once Laura had their orders, she headed toward the beach in a slow stroll. The sun rose, covering her in light that reflected from metallic objects and glass in the area. She took sips of her coffee, which made her feel more awake and less like she was running on fumes.

She revelled the quiet atmosphere and simple view of the closed shops without all the patrons filling the space. She would interspersedly peek into front windows, searching for familiar landmarks and goods that reminded her of previous evenings after school and summer afternoons, roaming with no particular goal.

Soon enough, she came face to face with the old pier and the ridge that preceded the beach below. The sunlight made it appear as though the waves were glittering in delight, rocking back and forth. She couldn’t help but take out her phone and snap a picture. It wouldn’t capture the entire feeling of the moment; nothing could compare to the breeze ghosting her skin and the sound, a distinct song the ran through the length of her whole being.

She lingered for a moment and then took the creaking staircase, that should have been replaced ages ago, down to the actual beach.

She removed her shoes and tucked them into an open zipper in her backpack. It was much easier to travel on sand with bare feet and she was craving the feeling like a warm hug. This sand, warm and rough, reminded her of home.

Several meters away, she could barely identify Carmilla’s van and a figure leaning on it’s doors through the morning sun’s glare. The figure revealed itself to be Carmilla, the closer she got. Her girlfriend lounged, gaze firm on the horizon. Even with the crunch of sand alerting her presence, she didn’t make move.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” Laura said. She had seen this view hundreds of time, but it never dulled.

“Breathtaking,” Carmilla sighed, sounding a bit breathless.

“Too bad you’re set on this whole drifter thing,” Laura teased as she grinned at Carmilla’s profile. “Styria’s a good home.”

Carmilla turned her head to look at Laura. She couldn’t see what her eyes were doing behind the protection of her sunglasses but it was definitely something mischievous.

“Maybe one day,” Carmilla drawled, “if we agree on settling down.” Laura expression softened, her mouth falling open just a fraction.

_We._

Laura loved the sound of that. Traveling with her girlfriend was a dream come true, but another part of her was fond of that idea. Her mind wandered, sending her to the future.

She could see the house, not too far from her dad and the center of town. It would be a faded brick building that they had purchased together from an old couple looking to retire somewhere else. A green front yard that they would cover with flowers and little garden statues that Carmilla would pretend to loathe.

She saw her friends and their more adult versions of a hangout, Sunday nights with wine and board games. That is, if they hadn’t moved elsewhere in the time Laura had been gone.

She saw waking up to Carmilla each morning, tangled in the mess of fluffy sheets, clinging to one another though it was warmer and made them sweaty. She imagined a dog, coming to convice them out of bed because it was passed feeding time and they had slept in. Carmilla would drag her back into bed when she tried to leave, despite knowing their pets needed to be fed. A cat would be hiding under the bed, meowing in distress as if it hadn’t eaten in days, when in reality, it was showered with treats.

Before she could get too invested in their possible future, she snapped back to the conversation at hand.

“I don’t think you’ll want to stop once we start.”

“Are we still talking about traveling?” Laura inquired, eyebrows quirked in wonder. Carmilla smirked.

“You should know by now to look out for innuendos.” Her girlfriend tilted her head to the side, flashing her teeth. Laura’s heart sped up.

“Coffee?” Carmilla said, glancing down at the cups settled in her hands. Laura shook herself out of the effects of Carmilla’s actions and grinned.

“Yep!”

“One sugar?” Carmilla mumbled, just in case she had decided to order another black coffee without permission.

“Mhm,” Laura hummed but didn’t pass the cup to Carmilla’s waiting grip. She had an idea, one that would earn her deserved revenge.

“Well... hand it over.” Carmilla extended forward but Laura dodged her hand, moving it out of her of her reach with a smooth sweeping motion. Carmilla gave her a questioning look, lifting her sunglasses. Laura stalked closer but kept an antagonizing distance between them.

“Not yet,” Laura chided, her smug tone not throwing off Carmilla in the slightest.

“What must I do?” Carmilla asked, tongue peeking out to wet her lips.

“You gotta kiss me for it,” she whispered.

Carmilla took Laura’s face in her hands and pulled her into a passionate kiss. She was too preoccupied with the swift movement of Carmilla’s soft lips melding into her own to remember the coffee cups, which were close to spilling their contents. She tasted like mint and a hint of salt, the airing of the beach mixing with the sensations. She whimpered as Carmilla ran her tongue across her top lip and she lunged farther into her, kissing her harder.

That continued for a few more kisses until Laura broke it, resting her forehead against Carmilla’s temple.

“Was that enough to earn me a coffee?” Carmilla breathed, catching her breath. Laura giggled and nodded, handing it over. She had wanted to give her a hard time, but she was weak, especially when Carmilla kissed her like that.

She took a few sips, humming in satisfaction before setting her cup on the roof of Billie.

“I actually got you something too,” Carmilla said, popping the trunk open. She dug through some of the contents and when she found what she was looking for, removed a little box about the size of a shoe. It was neatly wrapped in gold paper, seams hidden and tapped with precision.

She set the box in her open hands and Laura examined it. The color shimmered in the light, catching her eye.

“Your dad helped me with that,” she said, gesturing to the wrapping paper.

“Carm, you didn’t have to.” Laura’s chest felt like it was bursting with a million fireworks. She was hesitant to accept the gift, but was nonetheless appreciative. It wasn’t often that people surprised her with something that she hadn’t been consulted on.

“I know, but I wanted to,” she said with a timid smile. “Open it.”

Laura tore the outside, clawing open the present like it held the secrets of the universe underneath it’s cardboard and she had been searching for centuries.

Inside was a pair of sunglasses, the same shade of gold as the wrapping and the same brand as Carmilla’s. She picked them up and tried them on, Carmilla watching as she pretended to be a model, goofiness shining through with each dramatic turn of her head. She giggled, pushing her hair behind her ears and glancing down. She had been so infatuated with the first gift, she didn’t notice there was a second.

Underneath the glasses had been a piece of faded white paper, crinkled and worn. She couldn’t see the entire design but what little showed, depicted circled points and lines. She took it out and unfolded to its full span. It’s surface was littered with black dots and the occasional star and two-dimensional textures. The old fashion map of the United States had marked with little phrases indicating which places were a “must visit” or referenced to quick facts that were located on in the margins.

“Was this yours?” Laura asked. She was in complete awe.

“The first map I ever owned,” Carmilla nodded. “Figured it would be of more use to you than me, now that you’re going on your first big adventure.”

“Carmilla, this is...” Laura paused, searching for the words to describe how much her thoughtfulness had affected her. “Perfect.” She gathered the map once more and placed it back in the box for safe keeping. It was useful but she wanted to preserve it.

“Thank you.” Laura lunged forward, hugging her around the waist in a tight embrace.

“You don’t think it’s cheesy?” Carmilla said into Laura’s hair, breathing in the scent she carried.

“I do, but it’s the perfect amount of cheese,” Laura leaned back, facing Carmilla, “I love cheese.”

“It’s practical,” Carmilla grumbled, sticking her nose into Laura’s hairline. “Now, you won’t damage your retinas and you can find your way.”

“I always knew the way,” Laura said, sounding more serious than the lighthearted statement she intended. “Plus, I have you.” Carmilla scoffed as she cuddled up closer to her, as if she wasn’t already pressed up against her.

“What if we get separated or there’s an emergency? Technology can fail at anytime,” Carmilla countered.

“You’re starting to sound like one my dad,” Laura laughed, Carmilla still grumping around. Both of them paused, staring at the ocean. The sun had just reached past the horizon and was craving it’s path toward the clouds.

“So, where to first?” Carmilla tightened her arms, tracing patterns on Laura’s exposed hip.

“The agenda is clear. Your pick,” Carmilla sighed in content. Laura tilted her chin upward, staring at her girlfriend’s beautiful features.

“Can we go to that lighthouse? The one from the postcard?” Carmilla pretended to be clueless, tapping her finger on her temple.

“I’m not sure if I remember how to get there,” Carmilla said, a smile breaking through her confused act.

“We’ll use my new map, then. Let’s go!” Laura shouted, racing out of Carmilla’s arms and around to the passenger door. “I call shotgun!”

“This isn’t a race,” Carmilla shouted back, trudging to the driver door and plopping into her seat.

“Yeah but I totally won,” Laura grinned, wiggling in her own seat. The car rocked with each sway of her body.

“Hardly,” Carmilla rolled her eyes fondly. She bit her tongue, holding the innuendo about rocking the car, in her throat.

Laura bent down, sorting through the mix tapes that were stacked near her feet. After debating between the two labeled “Songs Your Parent Shouldn’t Hear” and “Driving Me Wild”, she decided on the latter and popped it in the radio. The first track started with intense violins and gentle rolling drums. It was a song that Laura recognized from the trip to Lustig. The singer’s high pitch voice echoed through the vehicle with a metronome supporting their beat.

Laura looked over to Carmilla, who was smiling. There was an odd look on her face, but it wasn’t an uncommon one.

“What?” Laura asked, taking stock of her actions and wondering what she could be doing that would make Carmilla look at her like that.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head and facing forward.

“Wait,” Carmilla interrupted herself, Laura still waiting patiently for her girlfriend to continue.

“I love you,” she exhaled and Laura breathed in.

“I love you too,” Laura replied, beaconing Carmilla forward with a touch to the back of her neck. She planted a light kiss on her lips that Carmilla smiled into it, her eyes still closed even after Laura pulled back.

“I never thought I would get to tell you that,” she whispered, her voice thick with lingering sadness.

“Well, you did,” Laura smiled, brushing her thumbs along the defined bones of her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered close again, humming at the feeling of her soft fingertips. “And you can say it as many times as you want.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Carmilla said in quick succession, melting further into Laura’s touch. Little did she know, Laura herself was melting on the inside the more she spoke. Carmilla gazed at her, vulnerable and honest.

“Laura Eileen Hollis, I love you.”

“I didn’t mean all at once, you goof,” Laura giggled, cradling her face. “I love _you_.”

“Now, fire her up!” Laura patted the dashboard, switching the mood from intense to humorous in a second. Carmilla shook her head and collected herself, revving up the engine with a few sputtering coughs. It had been at least a week since Carmilla had driven, which was much too long for her to remain stagnant. She needed to run on the open road to keep her joints loose. But once she was running, they were good to go.

Carmilla dropped her sunglasses from her head onto her nose, shifting the gears. Laura was a little less graceful than that, sliding them on lopsided before adjusting them. She cranked the volume on the radio, which had run through a few songs. She pressed the back button, restarting the CD, wanting to hear the first tune over and over again.

“How do you feel?” Carmilla asked, one arm resting lax on the wheel and the other on the stick shift.

“Excited, hopeful,” Laura laid her hand over Carmilla’s. “Ready,” She sighed.

Billie shot forward on Carmilla’s queue, sand launching as the tires squealed into action. The cabin lurched and sped away from the spot she had occupied for close to five months.

“Drive closer to the ocean,” Laura begged, winding whistling as went faster and Carmilla obliged.

She turned the wheel, lining the vehicle with the tide. Laura hung her arm out of the open window, fingers gliding through the air and water droplets peppering her skin with each meter traveled. She whispered a silent farewell and then turned to look at her girlfriend.

This was it: the last time she and Carmilla would be here as their current selves in a town that had been the same since she arrived sixteen years ago.

Nothing would be the same upon their return. Different people with their own tradition and vibes, living in the homes that her generation had.

It was likely that no one would remember her or Carmilla and her “scandalous” presence on the Styrian beachfront. While it was hard letting go and accepting this fact, she knew there was more out there to be discovered. She was bigger than her past and the sole place she had known.

But perhaps, it wasn’t over.

Laura had learned that the world was full of possibilities, of surprises, of endings that were worth the struggle of the arduous middle and tremulous beginning. The universe could be more forgiving than illustrated throughout time.

She suspected there was a plan for her life, filled with adventure she could have only dreamed of, memories to make that she couldn’t have conjured in her wildest fantasies.

She didn’t have a choice, but she did had a chance.

For so long, she had been searching for an adventure that would shake her to the core, instilling change and knowledge and understanding of the world. But all along, the adventure was meant to find her.

The universe had bestowed her with a wonderful family, a loving girlfriend, and a trip of a lifetime.

And a kindness that demanded her, wasn’t one she could refuse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that’s it, folks! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
> 
> Surprise! I made playlist for this fic (contains spoilers???)  
> http://ghostbinch.tumblr.com/post/165373715834/the-official-playlist-for-my-carmilla-big-bang
> 
> Also, if you wanna see themed posts or part of my writing process, check out (http://ghostbinch.tumblr.com/tagged/beach-au)
> 
> Until next time!


End file.
